


Perchance to Dream

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-15
Updated: 2009-10-07
Packaged: 2017-10-07 00:14:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being selfish has its merits sometimes. Marcus Flint is selfish enough to bend every rule to keep Katie Bell safe.  (Companion piece to "Somnambulist.")</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hogwarts 1993

It was Marcus Flint's final year in Hogwarts. Again.

He had thought that joining his father's business would have allowed him to slide on his academics, but his mother had put her foot down. Bad enough he had no aptitude for learning and just wanted to follow his father's footsteps into the sale of brooms and Quidditch gear. She thought that it would be good for him to actually sit and pass his NEWTS. Considering he had spent all of his time in the air as a Chaser for the Slytherin House team, he couldn't be arsed to study. He knew enough to help his father full time, after spending every summer and holiday at the family shop. His mother insisted, and made him come back to repeat the year.

He wanted to be angry, but it gave him another year of flying. He wasn't nearly good enough to do it professionally, and his propensity to cheat to win would've had him sacked from any team anyway. His family lived in the countryside, and there were large enough areas to spend some time flying and testing the brooms in the shop. There weren't any others that could play Quidditch in his area, though.

The Gryffindor lineup was pretty much the same as the year before. Marcus was looking forward to the year. He liked racing the Gryffindor Chasers and shouting insults. That Bell girl gave back as good as he threw out, and had a fairly good form while flying. She was a bit younger, but she flew as well as Spinnet and Johnson, the other Gryffindor Chasers. It was going to be a solid two months of training before the November match, and he planned to enjoy every moment of it.

Marcus noticed Katie Bell up ahead, heading out to the pitch with a school broom in hand. He smiled and decided to follow her. It seemed as though he wasn't the only one Quidditch-obsessed, and it would give him an idea of how well she played. Maybe he'd think up some good insults to hurl at her in flight. He knew he was thick, so he had to plan these things out ahead of time. He wasn't as good as Malfoy in the insult department.

He stopped short once he left the broomshed. Bell hadn't gone out in her Quidditch kit, but in her school uniform. She had certainly filled out nicely over the summer, and there was a look of pure joy on her face. For all that she was a Gryffindor, and therefore a pain in the ass by definition, he could appreciate someone else loving the game as much as he did.

Marcus grabbed the school broom and kicked up into the air. He left his outer robes near hers on the grass and flew up into the air. Her face contorted into one of suspicion. Marcus wondered at it; he hadn't thought Gryffindors were capable of such things. He had always thought they were gullible and foolhardy. "What're you doing here, Flint?" she asked, brows furrowed. "You graduated last year."

"Had to repeat the year," Marcus replied with a shrug. "So I've got another year of Quidditch."

"So you're what? Eighteen now?" she asked, considering.

Marcus grinned. "Just about. You?"

"Fourteen. Fifteen in November." She looked about ready to say something else, but stopped.

Bell was probably wondering why they were even speaking. If Marcus was the thinking type, he would have wondered about that himself. As it was, it was a beautiful day, there wasn't much homework yet and they were flying above the Quidditch pitch without gear. Up close, Bell looked spectacular. She had long brown hair and large hazel eyes with a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Marcus knew he wasn't any prize. He was tall, broad shouldered and almost intimidating. He had black hair and dark eyes, a patrician nose and looked older than he was. In taverns they assumed he was old enough for hard liquor and he tolerated it well.

"I'll race ya," Marcus offered. "Bell, right?"

She nodded, starting to smile. "I thought I was the only one into Quidditch this much. Everyone thinks I'm daft for wanting to fly on our first day back, before practice even starts."

He laughed. "Then I'm just as daft. How's this? Here to goal and back."

 

"What does the winner get?" she asked, eyes sparkling with the challenge.

"A kiss," Marcus replied without thinking.

She blinked in surprise. "I'd hate to ask what the loser gets, then," she replied, shaking her head. "Is that how you get your dates, Flint? No wonder there aren't more girls on the Slytherin team."

Before Marcus could reply, Bell kicked off and headed for the goal. Marcus started after her, laughing, and used his larger frame to his advantage. They were on older brooms, but he had momentum on his side to easily make the turn and slingshot back to their starting position. From Bell's mulish expression, he could tell she was hacked off about losing. "Where's that kiss, then, Bell?" he asked, smirking.

"You didn't mean that, did you?" she asked, leaning back on her broom away from him.

"Why not? Are you scared?"

She shook her head, brown hair flying. "Absolutely not. You're not ridden with diseases, are you?" She leaned forward and presented her cheek. "I still plan on playing in November."

He caught her about the waist to keep her on her broom, and she let out a startled squeak. She turned to face him with large eyes that he could drown in. He kissed her soundly, and it felt like sparks across his lips. "And I'll beat you then, too. Every inch of me."

"What? Two?" Bell huffed, pushing away. "As if you could get it up, Flint. Too bad there's no one willing to teach you how to do that properly. But then, you'd probably have to repeat the year a few more times, then." She smiled sweetly and flew off before he could think of a reply.

 

Marcus finally had to laugh to himself. He was going to enjoy the November match.

***

Slytherin practice was just after Gryffindor's. With Malfoy out of commission, the Slytherin-Gryffindor match was moved to the end of the year. It was going to be a while before Marcus would have to face Katie Bell on a broom. He found himself almost disappointed. No one else really sparred with him up in the air. Everyone else took a look at his hulking frame and flew off in the other direction, afraid. That took the fun out of flying. Where was the competition in that?

Spinnet and Johnson were at the locker room doors, looking impatient. "Katie, your hair is fine!" Johnson shouted through the door. "If you're not out here right this second, I'm leaving!"

 

"That's not fair!" Marcus could hear Bell shout through the door. "You took all the water and I had to recharm it!"

"You should have just charmed the showerhead like I did," Spinnet called, shaking her head. "You didn't need a bath."

"I'm black and blue!" Bell shouted. "I needed the salt soak!"

"I could've taken that Bludger," Johnson retorted impatiently. She pushed the door open a bit and shook her head. "Katie, you're starkers. I'm heading inside for dinner. I'm starving. I'll save you a seat." Spinnet ducked her head into the locker room and shrugged helplessly, then went off to follow Johnson into the castle.

Marcus grinned and settled in to wait for Bell. He would've liked to have seen her starkers, but he wouldn't want to be tossed out of practice or school for something like that if she complained. He would have to try to plan something ahead of time, some kind of spell or charm, so that he could peek in at her.

Bell stopped short when she saw him outside the girls' locker room. "I knew it," she said, shaking her head. "You really _aren't_ a man at all. Was I wrong? Less than two inches? Nothing at all? That poor Slytherin girl you were hanging all over. Does she know you can't perform?"

He couldn't help it and laughed in her face. She had a mouth on her, that was for sure. He rolled up to his feet and towered over her. She was backed up against the locker room wall and had to angle her head up to stare at him. Just as he thought she might, she stared him down. He smiled at her, and tugged on a damp lock of hair almost indulgently. "Now, Bell, that wasn't very nice of you. What if I got my feelings hurt?"

"That would imply you had feelings," she snapped, pulling her hair out of his grip. "I've got to get to dinner. Practice ran late."

"That's why most Slytherins have the good sense for a light early dinner."

"I'll think of it next time," Bell retorted. "Let me pass."

Marcus thought he should say _At the cost of a kiss,_ or something smooth, but couldn't think of anything. He was never good at thinking on his feet. He always thought of replies at least an hour or two later once he'd had time to think things over fully. So he did what he hoped words would lead to: he kisssed her.

Startled, Bell was frozen in place. He broke the kiss and smiled at her fondly. He tugged on her hair again, smelling the scent of lilacs. "Go on, then, Bell. Can't have you starving tonight."

"What are you on about?" she asked him, eyes narrowing. Suspicious again.

Marcus wanted to laugh. Bell gave him far more credit than he deserved; he wasn't capable of the machinations she assumed he was. Still, it was nice to be thought of as devious. He touched her face, thumb settling on the edge of her lower lip. "You're pretty. And you fly really well. Too bad we won't get our match until the end of the year, Bell. Maybe we can race some weekend."

"Can't. I'm already slated to do something else this weekend," she blurted almost nervously.

"I'll catch you next, maybe," he replied with a shrug. He backed up and pointed at the entrance back to the castle when he heard shouts on the pitch for him. "They need me on the pitch. You go eat."

Her expression was unreadable, but he'd never been overly brilliant about reading respectable people. "All right."

"See ya around, Bell."

"Good night, Flint."

***

With Dementors on the field, Hufflepuff won the first match of the season. Marcus headed to the locker rooms before the match was officially over and caught the downcast Chaser he had been looking for. "Bell!"

She turned, frowning, and the rest of her team filed into the locker rooms. "Come to gloat, then?"

Marcus shook his head. "You flew brilliantly." He grinned at her. "I'm going to have to keep on my toes around you, then."

Bell obviously couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Are you taking some kind of potions? You're making less sense than usual."

He crowded into her space a bit, and Bell refused to back down. She glared up at him, jaw set. "You heading out to Hogsmeade this weekend, Bell?"

"Are you asking me out?"

"No."

"Good. I've plans this weekend in Hogsmeade already."

"Yeah? What for?"

"My birthday's next week, you great git. We're celebrating it this weekend."

Marcus let the mild insult slide. She'd given better and there was no heat to it. "Well, happy birthday, then."

"And you're not invited," Bell added with a huff. She pushed him away and strode purposefully into the locker room.

Slytherins didn't need formal invitations, but Marcus let that slide. She didn't know him very well. There were really only a few places where a birthday party could be held, and most likely it would be at the Three Broomsticks.

And sure enough, they were at the Three Broomsticks. There were mostly Gryffindors there, one or two Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs at the table. Marcus noticed Malfoy sitting with his two bodyguards at a table not that far away, and he kept surreptitiously watching the littlest Weasley, who was hanging on the edges of the party. Apparently, Marcus wasn't the only Slytherin ogling Gryffindor girls.

Most of the other Slytherin seventh years were off doing their own thing. Marcus had made a passable attempt at the year so far, but the other seventh years were mostly avoiding him when out of class. They had various ambitions, and Marcus wanted to go run a shop. They considered it too plebian, probably, but Marcus enjoyed working with the brooms at his father's shop. His father was already talking about the new stock they were planning to order in time for the kids on hols to buy.

He waited until Bell left the party table and headed for the loo. He waited outside the doors in the short hallway before she would have to go back out into the main dining area. She stopped short and rolled her eyes when she noticed him. "Oi, you. That's stalking. And so horribly desperate."

"Lovely to see you, too, Bell."

She pulled a face, realizing she had been rude without provocation. "Why is it that you're always hanging about outside bathrooms?"

"Tell me where else to hang about to catch you."

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Flint, you're a seventh year. You should be smarter than that. Go spend time with someone your own age."

"There's no one here my age," Marcus replied, shrugging. "And the other seventh years are all out somewhere else."

Bell didn't mean to feel a little sorry for him, but she did. "Oh. I didn't know that. The being somewhere else thing. I knew the age thing," she clarified awkwardly.

Marcus smiled at the blush on her cheeks. "Happy birthday, Bell."

The blush grew hotter. "You remembered?"

He nodded, digging into his pocket. "I got you something."

"You did?" she asked, eyes widening in surprise. "Um... I take back every nasty thing I said about you, then."

He laughed and handed over the small box. "It's shrunken. You can open it when you're alone." She shot him a questioning look. "So you don't have to explain to anyone how you got it. Or how you know me."

She looked almost ready to cry. "But I know you from Quidditch. Everybody knows that."

Marcus stepped closer and tugged on her hair. "And everybody knows that our teams are supposed to hate each other. And everybody knows that you're a good girl and a good Chaser. I'm just that big dumb guy in the back of the class waiting to pass through."   
"Then why hang about me?"

"You're pretty," he said with a shrug. "And you're a brilliant flier." He wrapped the lock of hair around his finger and let it tumble down out of his hands. "And you've a mouth on you, which is funny to hear. Does anyone else know what filthy things you say to me?"

Bell looked horrified. "Absolutely not!"

Marcus wondered why he always felt giddy around this girl he had barely even noticed before. "I can keep a secret, Bell." He leaned in and kissed her quickly on the lips. "There. I promise to keep it."

"You're crazy."

"Completely mental," Marcus agreed amiably enough. "But no one's willing to cross me. I'm the tough guy in Slytherin."

"Completely bonkers to boot," Katie replied, shaking her head. "Go on and get some Slytherin girl. They're more your type."

"They're silly girls that don't appreciate a good game."

"You'd have to play a good game to be appreciated, then," Bell replied tartly. "You haven't got the skills on or off a broom."

Marcus's eyebrows rose as she pushed past, then he smirked at her retreating back. Bell was in some sweater and long skirt out of respect to the weather, but it didn't much hide her overall shape. He definitely liked what he saw, and liked the sass she threw his way. Funny how that worked. The girls he'd dated from Slytherin or Hufflepuff had all been quiet and too respectful. Flat and one dimensional didn't appeal to him much. He might not have been book smart, but knew how to appreciate it in others.

And Katie Bell, he definitely appreciated.

***

Marcus eyed the list of students that were staying over Christmas hols at Hogwarts. He usually went home over hols, but there was Katie Bell's name scrawled hastily across the top of the list. He didn't know if she spent her other Christmases in the castle, but he imagined that it had to be lonely; it was always a short list. He wondered if the recent fear about Sirius Black was part of the trouble. The list was a lot longer than it used to be, but not by much. Some people felt that the castle wasn't any safer than the rest of Wizarding England, since no one had any idea where he should be.

Speaking of the very chit...

"Bell!"

She threw a look over her shoulder and groaned in frustration at the sight of him. "You keep turning up everywhere I am."

"Like a bad penny, I am," Marcus agreed. "You're staying for hols?"

"What of it?"

"Well, I could stay here with you."

"Oh, don't break your plans on my account," she replied. She was holding her books to her chest and giving him a stern look. "You keep turning up and talking to me. Haven't you got your own work to do?"

"I did it already. And last year, too," he answered with a shrug. "Just this time I'm bothering to turn it in, so it's easy enough."

"Flint, go find someone else to bother."

"Am I bothering you?" he insisted.

Bell frowned at him. "Well, no."

"There you go. And I like talking with you. Did you get a chance to open your present?"

She flushed darkly. "I did. I'm sorry I didn't write a proper thank you..."

"You've been sitting so you can look at me at dinner," he replied loftily, smirking at her. "And you think I'm not looking at you back," he added as she sputtered, embarrassed. "But I am," he added, leaning closer to her. "Why don't we go flying this weekend on the pitch?"

"It's December!"

"So? Bundle up in your kit this time. And next week's Hogsmeade."

"Are you asking me out?" she blurted, flustered.

"Yes, I am."

"Why?"

Marcus rolled his eyes. "And everyone says _I'm_ thick?"

"Flint, don't flatter yourself," she intoned darkly. "I told you, you haven't any skills on or off the pitch to brag about."

"Care to try me on for size?" he asked, grinning at her. It was almost like his heart was fit to burst inside his chest. If he were to admit such a thing, of course.

"Now you're really having me on," Katie growled. "Stop making fun. You're not any good at it."

Marcus caught her arm before she left the signups. "I'm serious. Meet me on the pitch. And I'll take you to Hogsmeade next weekend."

"What for?"

"I'm not this evil bastard you think I am," he told her patiently. "Stop being so suspicious. I got you a nice present, didn't I?"

Reminded of that, Bell looked contrite. "Yes, you did. It's a really pretty locket, too."

"Wear it this weekend," Marcus asked suddenly.

"To go flying?"

"As a proper thank you."

She looked like she wanted to say something, but stopped herself. She leaned up and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. "You're really sweet sometimes. When you're not bollocksing it all up."

"Thank you. I think."

"I'll meet you on the pitch," Katie promised. She pulled on her arm and he reluctantly let go of her. "Before lunch okay?"

"I'll meet you at nine. That'll give us time to fly about and work up that appetite."

She shot him a look that clearly said he was crazy, but she also smiled and waved as she walked away. That was definitely an improvement.

***  
***


	2. Hogwarts: December 1993 - June 1994

Marcus tossed the broom at Bell as she approached the broom shed. "That's the best of the lot," he said by way of greeting. "Most of the others need the cushioning charms redone."

"I could fix it," she replied with a shrug. "But thanks. So what're you in the mood for? Racing between goal posts?"

"Just flying for a bit," Marcus said, getting onto his broom. "It's a nice day today."

"It's flipping cold, Flint," Bell ground out, getting onto her broom. She was bundled up in her winter uniform and robes and leaned in close to the broom to try and conserve warmth. "Why am I doing this again?"

"Because you love to fly as much as I do," he told her, grinning as he kicked off. "You'll warm up soon enough. Did you wear it?"

She kicked off the ground and met his height above the pitch. She pulled out the oval silver locket with gloved fingers to show him. "It really is lovely, Flint."

"Marcus," he told her helpfully. At her confused look, he smiled. "So you're a Chaser. And your birthday's early November and you like hazelnut and chocolate cake. And you're staying here for hols. Anything else I should know about you?"

"Getting to know me?"

"Something other than the insults you throw my way after practice," Marcus replied easily. "Got quite the mouth on you, Bell."

She flushed slightly. "Well, it's Quidditch. If you can't take it, get off the pitch."

"Quite right," he agreed. Now that she was on the pitch with him, that unsettled feeling that had come over him fell away.

"You know, this is entirely surreal. You're never this calm."

"It's different for games. But why wouldn't I be calm? There's nothing seventh year can throw at me that's new, really. I have a job lined up as soon as I have enough NEWTS to please my Mum. And you're here with me on the pitch. Why shouldn't I be calm?"

Bell bit her lip almost nervously. "It's... I'm used to hearing you cuss and swear at everyone in the middle of a game. I don't know what to make of this calmer side of you."

"Fuck you, Bell," Marcus said with a grin. "There, that better?"

She laughed, and he couldn't help but love the sound of it. "Yeah, actually. That I can deal with. I don't know how to take you being nice."

Marcus reached across the space between them and grabbed hold of her arm. She rocked on her broom, but her reflexes kicked in so that she didn't fall. He pulled her closer and seized her mouth in a kiss, his other hand winding its way into her hair. "I don't have nice thoughts about you, Bell. Not at all."

Her cheeks were flushed, possibly not all from the cold. "Oh." She blinked, unure of what to say.

"Oh? That's all you got, Bell? Just 'oh?' Nothing snarky to say?"

"That requires more brain power than you'd ever hope to have," Bell replied loftily. "I'm quite sure you're not worth the effort."

"There you are," he murmured, pleased. He still had his hand in her hair, cupping the back of her head. "I got more than the kiss if you like."

That flush was definitely not from the cold now. "You know, you should see Madame Pomfrey for that. It's not nice to go spreading diseases about."

"Not funny, Bell," Marcus growled. He pulled her closer and kissed her again. This time, instead of gripping her broom for balance, she caught hold of his broad shoulders. He liked the way that felt, and tried to deepen the kiss. She kept her lips firmly shut and backed up. He let the kiss end, not wanting her to tumble down to the ground thousands of feet below. "Afraid? Where's the Gryffindor bravery?"

"I'm not afraid of you," she returned, voice hoarse. "You're not anything to be afraid of. Word is, you can't get it up anyway."

"That's the word, eh? Want me to prove it wrong?"

Bell pushed back and away from his broom, expression unreadable. "We came here to fly, Flint. Scared I'll kick your arse?"

Marcus let it go for now. There was still Hogsmeade the following weekend. "I'll beat ya, Bell. Just you watch."

She won by two broomlengths.

***

There really weren't many places to take Bell in Hogsmeade, so it would have to the Three Broomsticks. Marcus had made arrangements for a table in an out of the way corner of the Broomsticks; this would let her deny it ever happened if she was so inclined. It was possibly more thought than he should have put into it, but for some reason he wanted to make a good impression. For some reason he was going out of his way to be nice to her. If she had been any of the other girls he'd dated in the past, they would have been up front and he would have been just as crude as he was on the pitch. For some reason, he couldn't do that around Bell very well.

She was in a red dress, the V neckline suggestive but not so low that it showed too much skin. She was polite and sweet at times, exasperating at others. Marcus was bending over backward being nice to her, and it seemed to go nowhere. Maybe he shouldn't be so nice? Marcus never got a chance to act on that thought. After dinner, Bell thanked him for a good time and gave him a chaste kiss before disappearing back into the castle, heading for Gryffindor Tower.

That was it. Flint had tried to be nice to her. And here it was, three months later and it had gotten him nowhere.

Katie Bell tended to do a little solo practice Friday evenings before dinner, with the Gryffindor team practice afterward. Marcus waited for her impatiently, and grabbed hold of her as she headed toward the locker rooms. They were empty, and he shuffled her inside the ladies' locker room and spelled the door shut. "What the bloody fuck, Flint?!"

He kissed her full on the mouth, pushing her up against the wall. "Merlin, I've wanted to do this all week," he groaned as he moved to kiss her cheeks and forehead.

"Are you daft, you bloody git! Can't you just talk to me like a normal person?"

Marcus picked her up and tucked her legs around his waist. It was easy enough to make her knickers vanish, and Bell was too busy yelling at him to notice. "You're not serious, Bell," Marcus growled. "It's been hard enough getting you alone, let alone to talk to you. That friend of yours is practically stuck to your side."

"You leave Leanne alone, you great big pillock. Fucking glowering at everyone and everything to overcompensate, aren't you?"

He laughed as he undid his trousers. "Oh, why don't I show you, Bell?" he teased, leaning in for a kiss as her eyes widened in surprise. He thrust into her swiftly, breaking through a barrier.

Marcus froze at Katie's screech of pain. _Oh bloody_ fuck. "Bell?" he whispered against her ear, shocked. "But you..."

She hit his shoulder with her fist, gasping for breath and tears in her eyes. "Fucking hell, Flint. You giant, throbbing arse," she sobbed.

Feeling like a heel was new to Marcus. "But you talk like that on the pitch all the time," he whispered, stunned. "I thought you'd already..."

"Shut the hell up," she sobbed, pushing at his shoulders. "Let me down, you arse. Talking doesn't mean doing, and if you had any bloody sense, you'd know that."

Marcus reached between their bodies and found her clit. He started to stroke it as he kissed her temple. "I'm sorry, Bell. _Katie."_ He struggled to stay still as she squirmed in his arms, and seized her mouth with his. She was gasping for breath, and he slid his tongue into her mouth. He stroked her tongue as his fingers stroked her clit, his cock still deep inside of her. She came, pulsing around him, hands clenched tight around his shoulders for balance. He didn't let up his stroking, and she made little gasping mewling sounds. She came again, and he groaned with the force of it. And then again, the pulsing making it hard for Marcus to breathe or keep still. He began to make shallow thrusts inside of her, and she was tight and wet. He groaned, his one hand tight around her arse to keep her balance, the other still rubbing at her clit. She made those soft mewling noises, those gasps, and came again around his cock.

"Fuck," he groaned, and pushed his entire length into her. She moaned, clutching at his shoulders and buried her face in the crook of his neck. "Merlin, Katie. Merlin, you feel so good." He groaned, eyes falling closed as he was close to coming as well. "Katie. Fuck, I'm gonna..." She trembled in his arms, fingers digging into his shoulders, breath hot and damp against his neck. She made a soft sound, lips by his skin, and it was just enough to shatter him. He came with a strangled groan and sagged against her.

When Marcus helped Katie to her feet, she looked down or away from him, almost shy. "That wasn't how it was supposed to be," she whispered softly, hands twisting together in front of her.

"What?" he asked, confused. "Katie?"

"Never mind," she murmured, looking up with a sad expression. "I need to go."

"Wait a minute, Katie," Marcus said, touching her cheek gently. "Let me help you clean up." He found a flannel from the supply bins and moistened it in the sink beside where they were standing. He wanted to kick himself at the forlorn look on her face, and simply knelt in front of her. He cleaned her up gently, resisting the urge to slide his fingers inside of her. He did press a kiss above the curls there when he was finished, and looked up when her breath hitched. Her hands were clasped in front of her mouth, and her eyes were wide and dark as she looked at him.

"Let me walk you back to the Great Hall," Marcus murmured, tossing the flannel aside. There was blood and spent seed, and she looked like a lost thing in the empty locker room. He stood and tugged on a lock of her hair, twisting it about his finger. "Katie?"

Her lips trembled and she looked almost ready to cry. "Yeah," she replied, voice rough. "Let's go back to the Great Hall."

***

Katie was glad that there wasn't anyone up in the dorms in Gryffindor Tower. She headed straight for the bathroom and ducked into the shower, her uniform wadded into the corner of the room. She turned the water on full blast, the easier to hide the tears that had threatened to fall the entire time she had been at dinner. "That arse," she sobbed, wrapping her arms around herself. So much for dreaming of something romantic. He'd been nice to her, and she had thought that she would get a chance to mention he'd be her first. And then he would make something special out of it, and maybe he'd even talk to her in front of everyone at mealtimes instead of sneaking about like he was ashamed of her. She took a great big breath, but still dissolved into tears. She'd built up this image of him, and he'd gone and ruined it all by just wanting her for sex. Not that she hadn't wanted him for sex, too, but she'd hoped it would have been more than just physical.

Why did he have to be such a guy about it? And how was she supposed to face him now that he'd ruined every fantasy she'd had about him? How was she going to be able to look at him and not want to cry for all the lost possibilities? He knew her schedule, so she'd have to change it if she wanted to avoid him.

Katie wiped at her face and shut off the shower. She sniffled and took a long look at herself in the mirror. That was it, then. She'd have to just avoid Marcus and tell herself to stop dreaming about him at night.

That was much easier said than done.

***

She avoided him through the rest of term and into hols. Marcus waited for her at all of her usual spots, but she had disappeared or wasn't ever alone. She looked sad at mealtimes, and he tried to stare her down the way he used to, hoping she would look at him again. The other Slytherins probably thought he was trying to intimidate the Gryffindor Chaser, but he just wanted her to look up, even once. She never did.

He found her in an empty corridor by a stairwell during hols. "Bell!" he hissed, and she froze. He had her cornered by the stairwell. "You've been avoiding me."

She looked up at him finally, and her mouth opened as if she was about to say something. But her lip trembled as it had in the locker room, and then she burst into tears. She wiped at her eyes angrily, obviously upset with herself for crying in front of him. He stroked her face gently, brows furrowed in concern. "You hurt me," she whispered, pushing his hand away. "You've ruined it."

Marcus sighed. "Well, I didn't know. And you've avoided me, so I couldn't tell you I'd redo it."

Katie Bell looked at him incredulously. "You can't redo a first time, you idiot!"

"Why don't you decide after I fix things?" he asked, seizing hold of her hand. "I'll show you how I'd've done it if I'd known."

He dragged her up toward a hallway she didn't know, and a door appeared in the wall. He pulled her inside and let the door slide shut behind them. The room was fairly small, but had a plush king sized bed and plenty of low tables with candles and flowers everywhere. Katie's mouth dropped open at the sight of it. "I thought this might work for a good girl," Marcus murmured, moving behind her. He bent down and kissed the nape of her neck, pushing her ponytail out of his way. His hands moved to her front, and he slowly undid the buttons on her blouse as she sputtered in surprise. "Katie," he murmured, nipping at her shoulder. "You don't have to be anywhere for hours, do you?"

She shook her head. "N-no," she whispered, eyes wide as saucers as he moved around to her front and quickly removed the rest of her clothing.

Marcus sighed at the sight of her. She had curves in all the right places. Maybe she wasn't the most generously endowed girl, but Marcus didn't like anything huge anyway. He guided her to the bed and let her fall back onto it. He knelt beside her, then leaned down to take one of her pert breasts into his mouth. Katie sighed, a hand working its way to thread her fingers through his dark hair. The other caught hold of his shoulder, nails digging in through his shirt. He sucked on her breast, tongue swirling about the nipple pebbling between his lips. He was balancing his weight on his right hand, and his left wound its way down her belly to the juncture of her thighs. She gasped as he found her clit and moist slit. He wanted to laugh, but that wasn't the kind of thing that girls liked with their first time fantasies. Not that he'd done research or anything. Not at all. Slytherins took what they wanted, and didn't care about what the girls wanted. Right.

Katie's legs splayed as she tilted her hips toward his hand. She moaned, head thrown back as his fingers slid inside her and his thumb hit her clit just right. She trembled beneath his mouth, and he sucked a little harder. Her hands tightened on him as she gasped, moaning something that might have been his name. Marcus smiled around her breast, then left it to suckle its sister. Katie sucked in a ragged breath at the contact, hips starting to buck against his hand. She moaned softly, body starting to tighten. "Marcus," she whispered, her voice sounding more like a whine.

Marcus kept up the pace and kissed the valley between her breasts. "I'm going to keep going, Katie," he murmured against her skin. "Just like this, until you've come. And then keep going until you tell me you're ready."

She moaned, writhing beneath his fingers, legs twisting. "M-marcus," she moaned, head thrown back as she panted. Her body tightened, and he could feel her constrict around his fingers. She let out a groan as she came, but Marcus didn't let up. He continued to stroke her clit, fingers inside of her as he licked the undersides of her breasts. Katie made a soft sound, almost like a sob as she twisted beneath his mouth, hands digging into his shoulders as she arched up. She came again, and Marcus kissed his way down her belly to take her clit between his lips. Katie nearly arched up off of the bed when he sucked on it gently, crying out in pleasure. He licked it, taking his time in getting her to come again. He crooked his fingers inside of her, the flat of his tongue on her clit, and Katie nearly wailed when she came again. "Marcus!" she sobbed, pulling at his hair to pull him up from between her legs. "Merlin, I need you inside me now."

He shed his clothes as fast as he could and buried himself inside her to the hilt. "Fuck, Katie," he groaned. He thrust into her, her legs drawn up around his waist and her nails raking trails of fire down his back. "Fuck, yes, like that," he groaned against her ear. She made soft mewling noises, clawing at him, bucking beneath him and pressing her mouth against his neck as she struggled for breath. "I can't... Katie, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna..." And then he came inside of her, hard enough to see stars behind his eyes.

Marcus tucked his head into the crook of her neck afterward. "Fuck, Katie," he breathed, fingers tangled with hers.

"I thought you just did," she replied cheekily, grinning.

He swatted her breast playfully. "Hush, you."

"I thought you were an inconsiderate bastard, you know," she murmured, running her fingers through his hair. "I thought you didn't like me, that you only wanted the sex."

"What gave you that idea, you daft bint? Here I go, making sure to catch you alone all the time so you don't have to answer any annoying questions from your mates or mine and you think I didn't like you?!"

She shrugged and gave him a half smile. "You didn't tell me it was because of that. I thought you just liked messing with me."

Marcus licked the nipple next to his face and laughed at her indrawn hiss of breath. "Of course I like messing with you. And fucking you. Merlin, I can do that for _hours."_ He stroked the side of her face softly. "I thought you were this girl that wanted someone nice. But you didn't say anything when I was like that."

Katie rolled her eyes. "You? Nice? The world is coming to an end."

He pushed himself up to his elbows above her and grinned down at her. "So fuck that. You're getting the real me."

She touched his mouth gently, her lips curving into a soft smile. "That's all I ever wanted."

He slid into her again. "Good, 'cause that's all you're ever going to get."

***

They snuck around the castle or on Hogsmeade weekends once term began again. Katie had this secret that kept her insides melting into a puddle of goo that she couldn't share with anyone, not even her best friend Leanne, and Marcus glowered at anyone that dared hint that he was getting too attached to a Gryffindor. He noted that Malfoy didn't tease him overmuch about that, even if the boy seemed to have no real sense otherwise.

Sirius Black tore up Gryffindor Tower after the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match, and a real sense of terror seemed to strike the castle. As everyone bedded down in the Great Hall, Marcus met Katie's eyes from their respective corners of the Hall. When Katie got up, ostensibly to use the loo, of course he found a reason to get up as well. He shagged her up against the wall in the corridor, her nails digging into his shoulders and her teeth marking the skin of his neck as she tried to keep silent. Marcus wore a low necked shirt the next day, the edges of the teeth marks visible on his neck. If she had any marks from where his fingers pressed into her soft bottom, she never told him.

Gryffindor soundly beat Slytherin and won the Quidditch Cup, which Katie had boasted they would do for months. Marcus simply shut her up with a kiss, which tended to end in heated sex somewhere in the castle. "What will you do next year?" Katie asked, final exams coming up with incredible speed. She almost didn't want to ask, but couldn't help herself.

Marcus pulled back and looked at Katie in concern. "Working with my Dad in the shop. I told you. I'm certain I've enough NEWTS to satisfy Mum this time around. Meaning, at least one," he added with a smile. He frowned when she didn't laugh at the joke with him. "What?"

"You're graduating this time. You're leaving."

"You're asking me to skive off exams?"

"No," Katie said, shaking her head. "I couldn't ever ask that. But you're leaving. And I'll still be here another three years."

Marcus couldn't help but feel his heart sink at the words. Did she want to break it off now? Did she want him to leave and never contact her again? "Katie..."

"Would you write? Or visit?" she asked, voice warbling. "Would you even want to see me?"

His mouth crashed onto hers before the question was even finished. His hands slid beneath her blouse to touch her bare skin. "You're a cow for even thinking I wouldn't," he growled at her between kisses. "I told you, you're mine. No one else's."

Katie shuddered beneath his mouth on her neck. "How? You'll be so far away..."

"I can Apparate. There's owls and portkeys and Floo. We're _Magical,_ Katie Bell. Don't tell me it won't work."

She nearly cried in her relief, straddling his waist as she sat on his lap. "I want it to," she whispered, threading her fingers through his hair. "I want it to so much."

"Daft bint," he murmured, bringing her down for another kiss. "But you're mine and you're going to stay that way."

***  
***


	3. The War Begins

Katie was a sixth year when the first whispers of war began. It was easy enough to ignore it. She had Quidditch, Hogsmeade and visiting with Marcus when he could arrange for portkeys or for enough time off from his father's shop to apparate to her in Hogsmeade. They didn't talk about the war, even if it was painfully obvious they were going to have to. Katie tried not to think about the fact that he didn't completely undress to make love to her anymore, even if he was more than willing to strip her to her skin and lick every inch available. Katie tried to make him buckle down at hols and tell her what was going on, but he refused. He simply bent her over the table in the room they were meeting in and took her from behind. She had to keep her fist in her mouth to muffle the noise and prevent the other patrons from leering at her when they heard her through the thin walls.

"Marcus, what are you hiding from me?" she would ask, concerned. He would brush her aside and talk to her of his father's shop, his mother's three German Shepherds and having to deal with surly customers. She mentioned her sisters, so much older than her and settled into their married lives. She mentioned her parents, dear to her as anything, wondering why she stayed away so often. "Come with me," she whispered, fearful. "We can leave. We can go away somewhere and you don't have to worry about the war."

"I'm not worried," he told her, sounding confident. "We'll win it."

"What we?" she asked, voice trembling. _Are you a Death Eater?_

He never answered that question.

It was October of her seventh year when it grew obviously worse. Leanne and Katie were set to go to Hogsmeade, and Leanne was tired of Katie sneaking off for an hour or two at a time every weekend. "Where do you go? Why won't you tell me? I'm your best friend!" Leanne had cried in the Leaky Cauldron. "I thought you shared all of your secrets with me!"

All but one, and that one was too important to her to share.

Katie tried to smile at Leanne, tried to make it seem effortless. But her stomach curled with cold fear. Would Leanne understand her if she explained about Marcus? He made her toes curl at the very thought of his crooked smile and soft voice. He could look down his nose at her and cuss up a storm, then make her laugh in the next instant. He could lay her down and kiss her until she came from that alone.

She loved him, Merlin help her. She hoped he felt the same way, that it wasn't simply obsession and possession. They'd never said the words, weren't that kind of couple. They snuck around and had mind blowing sex. She asked about his possible involvement in the war and he avoided the topic completely. She tried telling him about the possibility of making Puddlemere United's reserve team and he quoted broom sale statistics at her.

Katie didn't remember being hit with spells in the Three Broomsticks. She vaguely remembered searing pain and screaming in her head that didn't quite make it to her lips. She remembered being thrown about like a rag doll, hitting the ground and feeling her ribs break apart. She remembered the screaming that was Leanne, the screams trapped inside her head that were merely a dim echo of her thudding heart. She didn't think of anything but the fact that she might not ever see Marcus again. How horrible would that be? Dead by strange package she didn't remember receiving, and she'd never see Marcus again.

He visited her at St. Mungo's. He didn't come with bouquets of flowers, or send any. That was more Oliver and the twins' style. Angelina, Alicia and Leanne had visited her, once each, and faded from view. The hospital was gloomy and tired, and she was in the spell damage ward. Most were worse off, and it was horrible to make any decent teenager endure it.

Katie remembered waking up in the middle of the night to see Marcus standing at the foot of her bed. He held the footboard with a white knuckled grip, face ashen.

"Marcus?" she croaked, still sleepy. "I didn't think you'd come."

"Katie," he had grunted, face shuttered. It looked like a death mask more than his face. "You look like shite."

"I've had worse on the pitch. I'll survive." Katie could have sworn she saw Marcus flinch, his jaw clenching. "What?"

"I'm going to find whoever did this and kill them slowly."

She reached out for him, worried. "Don't," she whispered as he clasped her hand. "I don't want you getting into trouble."

"Too late," he whispered, sitting down beside her on the bed.

Marcus didn't stop her from pushing his shirtsleeves back, exposing the Dark Mark on his arm. "Oh, Marcus," she whispered, eyes flicking up to his face. She was disappointed and angry and defeated all at once. How could this have happened?

He was silent, watching her face. He watched her trace the Mark with her fingertip, as if scared it would come alive and bite her. He watched as she looked up, silent wonder and terror etched all over her face.

"What does this mean for us?" she asked, voice cracking.

"What do you want it to mean?" he asked instead, face still that imperturbable mask. She hadn't realized he was even capable of such a thing, but it had been two years since he had left Hogwarts. Katie rather doubted that he had told her everything he had done, even if she had told him everything.

Katie hit him weakly on the chest. "Fuck you, Flint, I'm not breaking this off because you've been even more stupid than usual." She started crying as soon as he circled her with his arms. "What are we going to do?" she wailed.

He kissed the top of her head tenderly, stroking her hair. "You'll be out of school in a few months," he began slowly.

"Wood said he'd get me a chance to fly for Puddlemere, see if I'd qualify for the reserve team." Katie looked up at him, at that mask that had slid over his face. She touched his lips slowly, tracing the edges of them.   
"I don't have to."

"I promised you that you were mine," he said, voice rough. It was the only indication of emotion. "You might not like it."

"Like what?"

"Like how I keep you safe," he said, jaw set.

Katie's heart sank. "How long, then? Since school?"

"Just about."

"Marcus..."

He shook her shoulders briefly. "You know nothing about what it's like, nothing." There was a pain in his eyes that he would never voice, a desperation in his tone that he would never explain. Family was important to him. Blood was important.

She bit her lip nervously. "Then tell me," she said softly. "Make me understand."

"I have to," he said simply. "There's no refusing that kind of request." There was an odd twist to his lips on the last word, as if it had been less of a request and more of a demand.

"Did You Know Who ask you?" Katie asked, eyes wide with horror. Her fingers dug into his forearm almost painfully.

"He asks a lot from all of us, things he thinks we can't bear." Marcus had to go on Muggle torture hunts, Malfoy had to get Death Eaters into Hogwarts and kill Dumbledore, and so on. They all had to do something in service to Voldemort, and they all would be killed as a consequence of failure. Or those they loved most.

Katie tucked her face against his neck, finding it difficult to breathe. "Oh, Marcus..."

"Play Quidditch," he whispered against her hair. "Get the hell out, go as far away as you can."

"I can't leave you," she whispered back, voice breaking to pieces. "I can't."

"Then we're doomed."

Katie returned to classes in April, and all of her teachers bent over backward to help her catch up in time for graduation. She tried not to think of a tall, hulking figure with dark hair, dark eyes and a beaklike nose staring down at her. She tried not to wonder what he was doing while she was studying, while she was pretending school even mattered anymore. She tried not to hope that he would be there at the last game of the year, somehow making his way into the stands or skulking about outside the locker rooms. Still, it was hard not to look for him, for that shaggy mop of black hair and glowering expression.

He was there at Dumbledore's funeral, standing at the edge of the field used for the event. Katie wanted to rush forward, damn them all at the funeral, but held her ground. Their eyes locked, and she slipped away as soon as she could. "Marcus?" she asked, proud that her voice didn't warble or give away her heart beating in triple time.

His face was stony, but his mouth crashed down onto hers with all the ferocity it used to. She wound her arms around him as his tongue slid into her mouth, and she felt his hands slide beneath her robes and up her uniform shirt. He'd changed so much since he last saw her in the hospital, and she had been afraid that he was dead. She clung to him even after the kiss was done, and she could feel his pulse against her lips. "I thought I'd never see you again," she whispered against his neck. "I was afraid you'd died and I'd never know."

"You still doing Quidditch?"

"Puddlemere's tryouts are next month," she replied, not questioning the change in subject.

"If you got in, d'you think they'd mind owls coming to you?"

"I don't see why they would. Marcus, what are you on about?"

"I got one. A new one no one else knows about," he told her intently, pulling back to stare into her eyes. "The color of your hair, answers to Chaser. If I send her to you, for Merlin's sake, _do what the letter says,_ Bell."

Something in her shriveled at the words. _Bell,_ as if they were back to the beginning and he didn't matter to her as much as he did. As if she hadn't laid herself bare for him a thousand times and shown him everything there was to see inside her soul.

He touched her face and tugged on her hair the way he used to, skulking about corners and hallways waiting for her. "I need your promise. I need to know you'll be safe."

She looked up at him, eyes damp with unshed tears. "How dangerous is it, Marcus?" she asked, her voice breaking. "I'd do anything to help you..."

She was pants at Defense Against Dark Arts. Auror material she was not, and they both knew it.

"Promise me, Katie. I'm going to do whatever I can to protect you..."

"What's going on?!" she cried, giving him a shove. When in doubt, anger always used to get him to open up. "All this protection bullshit for no damn reason!"

Marcus grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a shake hard enough to rattle her teeth. "Merlin's beard, you have no sense! Fuck, Bell! _Katie!_ Listen to what I'm telling you, you daft bint! I'm trying to keep you from getting killed!"

Katie crumpled in his arms and began to cry like the girly-girl she had never wanted to be, crying over some bloke that was crushing her to pieces. She couldn't help it. "You worry me," she admitted, face pressed against his chest. "I'm scared I'm never going to see you again."

"I'm trying really hard not to die," he told her dryly. "So far, so good." He stroked her hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "If Chaser ever comes to you without a letter... She's yours. That's how you'll know. But I need you to promise me. I'm doing whatever I can to keep you safe without making them suspect me. I'm trying to be what they need me to be so they don't ever question me." His laugh was bitter and hollow. "I'm too thick to plot against them anyway. I'd never be able to bring them down. But I'm good enough for keeping you safe. I'm good enough to direct them away from you."

"What do you mean?"

"They had you down as a Blood traitor, a sympathizer. I took your name off. They would've killed you and your family while you were at Mungo's. _I took your name off."_

Katie felt as if the world was spinning around her, blood rushing in her ears. If Marcus didn't have his arms around her already, she might have fallen. "But I didn't do anything."

"It's who you associate with. Your fucking friends, Katie. No one is above suspicion anymore."

"It's going to get worse isn't it?" she whispered disbelievingly.

"They won't stop for anything less than total control," he told her honestly. She clung to him then, her lips pressed to his throat. He slid his hands along her skin beneath her blouse, and she molded herself to him almost like a second skin. He hadn't seen her in months, and he wanted to shag her senseless. "Fuck, Bell," he ground out, feeling her flush against him. He was sure she could feel his erection by her thigh, his fingers pulling tight across her back. "Fuck."

"Isn't that the idea for coming here?" she asked, voice rough with desire.

No one noticed that Katie Bell disappeared from the funeral services, headed for the Forbidden Forest with a tall stranger. They didn't know when the stranger hoisted her up to shag her up against a tree, her head thrown back as she moaned at the feel of him inside her, his mouth on her throat and his hands on her arse, pulling her tighter and keeping her balanced. They didn't know when Katie and her stranger moved to the forest floor, tongues dueling as they kissed with all the pent up passion of frustrated desire. He slid inside her, thrusting with practiced ease. No one noticed any of this, and no one noticed when she returned to the castle, forest leaves twisted into her hair.

She got onto the Puddlemere reserve team and tried not to cry when no dark haired man cheered for her from the stands.

***

Marcus Flint's fist crashed down into Draco Malfoy's face. Blood spurted from that aristocratic nose, and Malfoy fell over in shock. He had trusted Flint, and hadn't thought he'd get a fist in the face for it. "What the bloody fucking hell, Flint!" Draco cried, losing his balance.

"You put her name back on the list," Marcus seethed, unable to think straight. Voldemort kept a list of Pureblooded witches and wizards that would be slaughtered in a ritual that would allow him to steal their remaining years of life to add to his own. He was planning to become damn near immortal at the expense of Purebloods. Marcus had checked the list just about daily, and narrowly managed to erase Katie Bell's name before it was picked up by Wormtail.

"Put who?!" he shouted, pulling himself up to stand. "I think you broke my nose, you arsehole."

"You put Bell on the list," Marcus told him through grit teeth.

"She's Pure," Draco protested, getting his wand out to heal his nose.

"So's Ginny Weasley," Marcus hissed. He took no pleasure out of watching Draco pale and fall still. "Yes, I know how you've looked at her for years. You don't think I know who your father would've suggested to get an heir from? Too many of the good ones are already dead or taken. The question is how it'll happen."

"Memory charms," Draco admitted with a sigh. "He erased everything."

Marcus let out a low whistle. "That would do it."

"So you and Bell?" Draco asked, wonderingly.

"Don't you fucking forget it," Marcus snapped. "I'll tear your throat out with my own hands if you do."

"But how?"

Marcus gave Draco a shove. "You forget that. If you want to keep your own Gryffindor girl, you'd better think fast. Your father's going to kill her as soon as he can."

Blanching, Draco eyed Marcus warily. "Why do you care, Flint?"

"I don't," he replied flatly, shrugging. "I don't care who you fuck or who you kill as long as you leave Bell and her family off the list."

"I'm not the only one you have to worry about," Draco told him with a frown. "Nott likes killing anyone and everything."

Marcus nodded gravely. "I saw what you did with that girl, by the way."

Draco froze. "What girl?"

"That last raid," Marcus told him, folding his arms across his chest. "The one you put to sleep instead of kill."

"I did no such thing," Draco protested hotly.

"Uh huh. And I got Outstanding on every NEWT," Marcus sneered. "I'm not book smart, but I know plenty enough about people. I know _you_ well enough, Malfoy."

"I killed her," Draco insisted. "She's dead."

"Nott thinks so, anyway," Marcus replied lazily.

"Watch out for him, then," Draco hissed. "He's eying your place."

"He can try," Marcus drawled. "He won't get too far."

"He's clever. And he knows Bell's Pure and still alive."

"Bloody fucking git will back off if he knows what's good for him," Marcus snarled, eyes narrowing.

Draco held his hands up in surrender and backed off. "Just... Forget what you think you know about me and Ginevra, all right, Flint? Just... leave us alone?"

"I don't care if you want to keep the girl, Malfoy," Marcus ground out. "I care about keeping my own safe from harm."

"So I'll help you with yours if you help me with mine, then?"  
"She's in your bloody mansion, you idiot. What good is it to get a favor from me?"

Draco licked his lips nervously and wondered how much he could even trust the older Death Eater. Marcus had always been cunning, if not overly intelligent. For a Slytherin, he had been exceedingly fair as captain. He didn't make any waves in the Death Eater ranks, and he could be counted on to get the job done. Yet there was something more to him, for none of the Death Eaters knew that he was in love with Katie Bell and was trying to keep her alive.

"I need to think of a way to save her from the sacrifice once she's with my heir. I told her," he admitted heavily.

Marcus's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You told the chit what she's being used for?" Draco nodded. "And she's still with you?"

"She thinks she can help me stop it," he told Flint heavily, spreading his hands apart in his confusion. "She doesn't remember a damn thing, but she is still a Gryffindor."

Marcus nodded and gave Draco a grimace of a smile. "Then it appears we have a problem on our hands, don't we?"

"I haven't a clue how to stop it. Do you?"

"Not a one. But my bird's safe and sound," Marcus told him, leaving the room. "Owl me if you need something."

The moment he was able, Marcus sent Chaser with a note for Katie: _Don't go home._

***

Katie kept the note in her pocket long after Chaser left her side. Her parents received notes from her in rapid succession, and they had backup places to live. Katie didn't. She lived with her parents, and had never thought to get a place of her own. She supposed she could ask some of her teammates for a bit of help. Still, it was serious.

_Don't go home._

Just thinking of the words sent a shiver down her spine.

***

Marcus didn't know where Katie was hiding, and no one else did either. He considered that to be a triumph. Nott was reprimanded for starting a fruitless search, and he disappeared for about a week. During that time, Marcus tried not to miss her.

He failed miserably.

***  
***


	4. Making Plans

Draco Malfoy disappeared for about a week or two after Lucius Malfoy was sacrificed for Voldemort's ritual. Marcus kept his mouth shut and his mind blank. Better Malfoy the senior than Katie Bell. Better that she was hidden and safe, and that he didn't have to worry about her.

He tried not give everything away when Nott insisted on putting her name back on the fucking list. He managed to have it removed again.

He eyed Draco when he returned, pale but determined. He was more confident than he had been before Lucius' death, and it looked as though he was keeping a secret. Marcus knew what that looked like. He approached Draco after the revel, mask in place. "Sorry for your loss, mate," he said, voice as bland as he could make it. His heart was racing; Draco was clever, and Marcus wasn't. If he was wrong, he and Katie were both dead.

Draco eyed Marcus warily. "Yeah. Things happen around here, I suppose."

"Your chit," Marcus began slowly. "Still breathing, then?"

Something in Draco's gaze shifted, and he stared at Marcus with narrowed eyes. "Why?"

Marcus was about to reply when he realized that Nott and Avery were starting to stare at them. "Not now," he hissed, nodding his head at Draco. "I'll need your help. Later."

Understanding seemed to dawn in Draco's eyes and he nodded back. "Later."

Nott gave Marcus a calculating look when he strolled over. "Flint. You didn't take much interest in Malfoy before."

"He was on the Slytherin Quidditch team, you git. I can offer condolences for his father."

Avery laughed. "I forgot how mad you are for Quidditch still, Flint. Too bad the Falcons never thought you good enough to play."

Marcus ignored the jab. That was an old pain, one he could ignore. He wasn't good enough, he knew that. He had always known it. That was why he had gone to work with his father, why he took over the business when Voldemort killed his father for not completing a mission properly. That was why everything was happening the way it was. He wasn't clever, he wasn't quick, he wasn't good enough. He was a thick bloke that couldn't read very well but knew people and numbers. He ran the business with an iron fist, something that had surprised his mother. He had a head for business that neither of them had expected, and his little broom shop was thriving. His mother was comfortable and safe. If he had any say about it, his Katie would be just as safe.

He didn't expect them to understand that. They had always had money. They never had to work for anything.

"Not all of us are as gifted," Flint replied, managing to keep from gritting his teeth. "What's on your schedule, then?"

"I've still got this Bell girl to find," Nott snarled. "I can't believe she's hidden so well. She's nobody important."

Marcus's heart hitched painfully, but he made no outward motion that he was affected by Nott's words. "Avery?"

"They want me to find the Mudblood. So I'm probably next on the block, since there's no way we'll be able to catch her," Avery replied sourly.

Marcus nodded, face stony. "I've asked for time to run the shop a spell. Can't rely on the managers all the time. I'll be off until the next revel, at least." He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from throttling either of them. "Think it'll take you that long to find your birds?"

Nott colored. "I'll find the bitch," he snarled before stalking off.

Avery snorted. "Not hardly," he said to Nott's retreating back. "He asked for that one," Avery confided in Marcus. "Took it personally he had to be punished for failing. You'd think he'd learn not to set himself up for failure and just find the girl first."

"Meanwhile, you know where yours is, but just can't get to her."

"Unplottable and guarded by the Order. You know she's the brains behind the whole operation. Potter couldn't lead anyone worth a damn."

Marcus had heard about Potter's leadership from Katie. He had been Quidditch captain. While it had burned her gut to be passed over, once he got over his own fears he had done fairly well. And with Katie out of school because of the cursed necklace, it was just as well she hadn't been the Captain of the team.

Marcus clapped Avery on the back and forced a smile. Avery wasn't so particularly singleminded, at least. He was likely the closest thing Marcus had to a friend in this lot. "Good luck with the capture, then, mate. Send an owl if you need a break and want to spend some time at the shop."

"Brooms and such aren't my thing, mate. But thanks for the offer."

It was easy enough to hang about at the edges of the fortress Voldemort was using. Most of the other Death Eaters had assignments to perform and had left early. Marcus had a business to run and Draco had a bride to care for that he said had grown sickly. Marcus had seen it for the lie it was, but Draco had managed to convince Voldemort of it.

"You lie too well," Marcus told him by way of greeting when they met.

"My dear aunt Bella's gift to me," Draco replied, nodding. "Have you been to Malfoy Manor?" he asked casually. "I could use a drink."

"Not recently," Marcus answered. "Your mother used to hold a lot of society balls."

"My other used to do a lot of things," Draco replied, voice cold as ice. He relaxed a fraction, realizing that Marcus meant no harm by the remark. "Apparate there, and we'll have a brandy."

They didn't talk right away. Ginny was apparently asleep and safely tucked away. Marcus felt the press of the Malfoy wards, an uncomfortable sensation at the back of his skull. The brandy did nothing to dull the sensation, and it was starting to give him a headache. "Your house hates me."

"It's your house, too," Draco replied, brows furrowing, thinking Marcus meant Slytherin House.

"Bloody idiot," Marcus growled. He gestured all around him. "Your house. The _Manor._ The wards are giving me a blasted headache."

Draco frowned. "I suppose it's not sure of you, yet."

"Fucking hell? I'm not going to kill you or your chit! Or your brat!" The press of the wards immediately eased, and Marcus could feel his headache disappear. He narrowed his eyes at Malfoy, who looked stunned. "You don't even know what your own wards can do?"

"Well, most of them are so ancient that I don't think anyone knows what they do anymore. Ginny is here all day, so she's gotten to know the Manor a fair bit."

Marcus tried not to groan. For a clever man, Draco could be so idiotically stupid sometimes. "Look. I need help. Nott's still going after Katie Bell."

"I heard," Draco replied dryly. "I was there."

"Well? You're the clever one!"

Draco frowned at Marcus. "What would you have me do?"

"I. Don't. Know," Marcus ground out through gritted teeth. "I just want her safe."

"She's Pure, isn't she?" Marcus nodded. "And you don't have heirs," Draco mused, tapping his glass idly. "So there's that."

"What are you on about?"

"Our Lord and Master is starting to think about the next generation of followers."

"At your direction."

"Of course. And you, being a loyal Death Eater, will need to spawn another generation of loyal Death Eaters with someone Pure."

"She's a Gryff. And friendly with that lot."

"You still want her," Draco pointed out. "And there are ways around that if need be."

Marcus glowered at Draco to the point where the other man paused in concern. "Fuck off, Malfoy," he hissed. "You're not touching her memory."

Draco looked at him in wonder. "You really do care about her, then? All of her, not just claiming her as yours?" Marcus simply glowered in answer, thinking it was obvious. "All right, all right. I can arrange this." He pressed his lips together after a moment. "She could stay here, if you like. Now that we've put it out that Ginny's ill, there won't be any revels here, the others won't be welcome here."

He held the arms of the chair with a white knuckled grip. "What's the catch, Malfoy?"

"None. If what I'm planning doesn't work out, I need you to take the girls and run."

He nodded slowly, understanding. Marcus was too thick to plan anything with Draco, but he was still fast on a broom. He was still cunning enough in ways that counted. "I can do that."

They shook on it, and Marcus had the easiest sleep that night than he'd had in months.

***

Marcus knew everything about Katie. She had always been an open book with him, and it was obvious who she would stay with if he just put a little thought into it. Nott didn't know her and was blinded by rage. If she wasn't at her parents' home, and it was deserted, he floundered in the dark with nothing but his anger for company. Marcus knew that if she stayed with the Weasley family, she was lost to him. He would never be able to find that brood. But he knew where Spinnet and Johnson had gone to ground, he knew where Wood and McLaggen were. He even knew where Leanne was hiding, when it came down to it. The logical choice, however, was Wood. He was first string Keeper for Puddlemere, and Katie was the second string Chaser.

Wood was startled to see Marcus on his doorstep, surly and demanding to see Katie. "I dinnae what you're talking about..."

Marcus pushed past him and looked about. He could practically smell her in the flat, and the tenseness drained away. "She'll see me, Wood. She's _been_ seeing me. Since my seventh year."

"Yeah? Which one?" Wood snarked, hands on his hips. Marcus didn't doubt that his wand was nearby.

"Second time around. You were long gone by then." Marcus stood his ground, arms crossed over his chest. He had his mask on; he fooled Death Eaters regularly, and Wood didn't scare him.

"How do I know it's not a trick?" Wood demanded, voice even. Marcus approved.

"I guess you don't," he replied easily, arms still crossed over his chest. "I'll still see her."

"Yeah? How can you prove it's you and not someone on Polyjuice trying to get at her again?"

The _again_ unraveled his calm. He surged forward almost threateningly. "Again? Again? What bastard came 'round? Who? Give me the fucking name and I'll fucking slit his throat if he touched her!"

The intensity in Marcus' gaze convinced Wood. "No one touched her. I got everything warded up tight. C'mon, then. I'll give ya some privacy."

"Thanks," he told the Keeper, voice rough with emotion. The thought that anyone might have come close after all...

"She talks about you," Wood mentioned slowly, hand on the knob to a door Marcus wouldn't have noticed otherwise. "I don't agree with this, waiting and hiding because of you. She's willing to do it, so she thinks you're worth it. Are you?"

"No," Marcus told him flatly, managing to keep from pushing Wood aside to rush in and see Katie. "But I hope to be."

He nodded, pleased with the answer. "And that's why you get to see her," Wood said, opening the door.

The room had various charms on it; Marcus remembered that Charms had been Katie's favorite class in school. It was larger than it should have been, with enough room to fly on a broom as long as she didn't try to zip around into those barrel rolls she favored. She was sitting at her desk, racing broom propped up against it, and she appeared to be writing a letter with one hand and eating a piece of toast with the other. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she was dressed in Muggle clothing that showed off the smooth curve of her neck and left her arms bare.

This was why he was doing this.

"Fuck, Bell, you're a sight for sore eyes."

She whirled around so fast her head must have spun, but the grin that broke out across her face was worth all the effort he'd made in coming to Wood's undetected. "Marcus!"

Marcus dimly heard the door shut behind him as he stepped into the room and Katie flung herself at him, kissing him desperately. He was too busy kissing her back, sliding his tongue into her willing mouth. He wound his hands into her thick hair, pulling it free of the elastic band. He backed her toward her bed as she attacked the buttons of his shirt and the front of his trousers. "I missed you," she moaned against his mouth, her cool fingers sliding across his stomach. "I missed you so much."

He had meant to talk first, make love later. Still, this seemed to be as good an idea as any, and pushed her down to the bed. Divested of their clothing, he drank in the sight of her. Smiling, Katie reached out for him. "Can you stay a few hours?"

"Until nightfall," Marcus told her, kneeling beside her sprawled form. He wanted to laugh at the delighted grin on her face, the way she reached for him almost greedily. "Let me touch you first," he murmured, leaning down beside her. He stroked her breasts and smiled at the way she arched toward him, the soft mewl that she couldn't hold back. He nearly growled from the force of wanting her. "How's the silencing charms on this place?"

"Fabulous," Katie answered, a wicked grin on her face. "I practiced screaming for hours when I first put them in, just in case you'd find me."

"I'd always find you," he said, eyes boring into hers. He slid one hand down her belly as he took a breast into his mouth. His fingers found her sex easily, sliding into the wet sheath. He sucked on her breast hard, almost painfully so, his fingers deep inside of her and his thumb on her clit. She clutched at him, moaning, head lolling back as she rocked against his hand. He drank in the sound of her, the feel of her around his fingers, the scent of her arousal. He moved from one breast to the other, suckling as his fingers drove into her relentlessly, slick with her pleasure. He could feel her body tighten, her breath become more ragged. He let go of her breast to lick the valley between them. "Come for me, Katie," he growled. "Let me know you're mine."

She came with a hoarse cry, nearly convulsing around his soaked fingers. He thought perhaps her fingernails digging into his shoulders broke the skin, but that didn't matter. She was alive, alive, coming around his fingers and he didn't let up the pace at all. "Marcus," Katie moaned, hands scrabbling across his broad back. The s was an indrawn hiss as his thumb took another swipe across her clit, and she nearly bucked off of the bed in response. She pressed her open mouth to his neck, struggling to breathe, unable to stop herself from moaning. She began to pant as his fingers flew faster inside of her, as her legs fell open wider and her hips bucked higher and harder against his hand. She nearly cried when she came again, head lolling to the side.

He kissed a trail down from her neck to her navel, his fingers still inside her. "My Katie," he murmured, his tongue dropping down into the valley of her navel. "Mine."

She'd normally say something smart in reply, that she wasn't property and he shouldn't think she was. Most of her brain was otherwise occupied with the sensation of him. Then his tongue laved her clit, and experiencing anything else was a distant memory.

Marcus closed his eyes as he tasted her, as she groaned in pleasure. He'd longed for that, imagined how she would feel beneath his mouth, his fingers curled inside of her. He was already hard, wanting to drive into her wet depths until he forgot his own name. She bucked against his mouth, legs splayed wide beneath him to give better access. She cried out incoherently when she came again, hand spastically clutching at her sheets. He rose up, hovering over her as she struggled to breathe. He stripped the rest of his own clothing, freeing his erection. Katie watched as he positioned himself, then sank deeply into her. She smiled as she sighed contentedly. "I needed you to do that," she murmured, reaching for him.

Marcus lowered himself down slowly, stretching out on top of her. She ran her hands down along his back, then cupped his ass as he thrust into her slowly. She kissed him, hot and open, her tongue sliding into his mouth. Katie rocked against him, her hands keeping him firmly in place. He started to go faster and harder as her breath fractured in his mouth, as he could feel the pull within his gut that told him he was close. She moaned into his mouth, fingers digging in hard, and he let go to come inside of her.

Katie trailed her fingers through his dark hair. "It's getting long," she murmured, a smile on her face. "I like it like this." She ran her fingers through it again. "More to touch."

He laughed, head tucked against hers. He'd missed that, the completely random bits of conversation as their brains stuttered to start again. "I'll leave it long for you, then." He trailed his hand down her side. "You flying enough, then?"

"I'm only in hiding when I'm not scheduled on the pitch. It gets boring, but there are so many guards it's not funny."

Marcus stopped laughing. "No, it's not funny," he told her, voice serious. "It's not funny at all."

Katie rolled to the side and pushed herself up onto an elbow to look at him. "I'll manage, Marcus. Really, I will. I've brilliant friends who can help me hide. It's not ideal, but I'll manage."

This wasn't how he wanted to bring it up, but it seemed to be the time. With a sigh, he got up and rummaged in his trouser pocket.

"What are you doing, Marcus?" Katie asked, confused.

He sat down on the bed beside her, a small box in his hands. He didn't even know how to begin; he forgot whatever he had planned. "You remember that locket for your birthday?"

She smiled at him and dropped a kiss onto his shoulder. "Of course I do. I'd be wearing it now, but you told me not to go home. It's in my jewelry box. I didn't want to wear it to practice that day and I didn't dare go home and get it, no matter how much I wanted to."

"Good girl," he told her absently. He could do this. Marcus took a deep breath and then opened the box. "This was my grandmother's. It kind of looked like that locket. Or the locket looked like this," he said, nearly stammering. "Oh bloody hell, it sounded better before."

Katie smiled, biting her lip to keep from laughing. He looked so disgruntled and disheveled and adorable all at the same time. "Go on."

"Look at it, Bell," he ground out.

She looked down at the box and her smile died slowly into shock. "Marcus..."

"If you take this," he told her intently, "it's forever. There's no engagements anymore. There's no time to wait or change your mind. If you take this, it means you really do belong to me, and there's no undoing it. There's charms and such. There's no taking it back."

"You pillock! I'd never take it back!" She threw her arms around him, kissing him fiercely. "You're mine as much as I'm yours."

"Then wear the bloody thing so I can protect you properly!" he growled, pulling her onto his lap. She practically bounced with giddy joy as he slipped the ring onto her finger, and she could feel the spells snap into place as the ring adjusted to her size. She could feel spells constrict around her heart, sliding in between her bones. This was forever, he said. This was permanent.

"Oh! What'll I tell my Mum?" she cried, clapping her hands to her mouth. "She wanted a wedding to plan!"

"Let's survive the fucking war first," he growled at her, threading his hands through her hair. "If there's anyone left when it's over, you can plan whatever you want to plan."

She slid her hands along his arms and chest. "I want to tell everybody," she told him, excited. "I want to tell the whole world, even Muggles."

Marcus rolled his eyes at her. "And get yourself killed in the process? I thought you were smarter than that, you daft bint."

Katie playfully smacked his chest. "You know what I mean." She kissed him again, slow and sweet. "So now what did you mean about protecting me properly?" she asked, eyes wide and innocent. "How does this help?"

"I got Malfoy to promise you'd be safe at Malfoy Manor," he mumbled, not quite meeting her eyes. He didn't know how bad the Light side gossip would be about Malfoy.

_"Malfoy?!"_ Katie screeched, shoving at Marcus' chest. "Bloody 'I hate everything Gryffindor and good' Malfoy?!"

"He's got a reason, all right?" Marcus rumbled, catching Katie's hands in his. "He's got his own Gryffindor girl to protect."

Her brows furrowed as she tried to think of girls she might have known in that year, and gave up. Her friends had all been her year or above thanks to Quidditch. "Who?"

"Ginny Weasley."

Katie looked at Marcus blankly. "Seriously?" He nodded solemnly. "But... She disappeared months ago. Everyone was saying she's dead. How?"

"He said something about memory charms."

She gasped, hands over her mouth. "That poor girl..."

"There's more," Marcus said with a wince. "She's pregnant. That's why he had to move fast on whatever he's planning. His father wanted to get rid of her as soon as the baby's born."

Katie winced. "That poor girl, Marcus. You can't let them kill her."

"He's the clever one. He's the one with the plan." Marcus stroked her hair gently. "I'm doing what I can, but it's not much."

Katie slid her hand down from his shoulder to his belly, her fingertips brushing his groin. He sucked in a breath and she smiled against his shoulder. "We're alive, aren't we?"

"How can you stand being with me, Katie?" he asked, voice quiet. "Why aren't you with someone like Wood?"

"He's a friend," Katie replied, just as quietly. Her hand closed around his cock. "He's a good friend, and helped me out in a pinch. But he's still a friend. Someone else caught my attention."

Marcus let his eyes close as her hand began to move. "I hope it's me," he said with a smile.

"He's tall and has this really dark hair I like running my fingers through. He's got these dark eyes that stare at me and make me think he's thinking of shagging me against the wall. Which he's done, by the way."

"I'm sure he enjoyed that," Marcus murmured, sighing when the heel of her palm hit the head of his cock. "I'm sure he enjoyed that a lot."

"I'm sure he did," Katie agreed, still smiling against his shoulder. "You know, he talks a good game. I've always said it wasn't good enough, but I was wrong."

He squeezed her bottom playfully. "And haven't I shown you how wrong? Repeatedly?"

"Did I say I was talking about you? Aren't you an egotistical lout, now? Assuming everything is always about you?"

With a growl, Marcus caught her about the waist and twisted so that her back hit the mattress. He slid into her with a single thrust. "You're mine, Katie Bell. They're not going to fucking touch you. They won't know where you are, they won't kill you." He grit his teeth as he thrust harder into her. She laughed delightedly at the feel of him inside of her, and Marcus grasped her hips to keep her wiggling steady. "I'm going to bloody keep you forever, you hear me? Forever."

She grasped his hips as well, gasping. "Marcus," she panted. "Merlin, Marcus..."

One of his hands moved to close over her breast, the thumb rolling over her nipple. Marcus's grin was predatory. "No one else will have you," he told her with a groan, feeling her body begin to clench down around him. "No one else will look at you."

"Fuck, Marcus," Katie gasped, nails digging into his forearms. "Right there. Don't stop, don't stop, right there, I'm so close Marcus... Merlin, I can't... Oh!" she cried as she came, back arched like a bowstring.

Her orgasm milked his cock and he came again. He collapsed down on top of her with a grunt, hand still curled around her breast. "I meant it, Katie" he muttered sleepily, thumb brushing over her nipple.

Her hand closed over his, his grandmother's ring sparkling on her finger. She squeezed his hand and snuggled closer to his warmth. "So did I."

***  
***


	5. Endgame

Ginny Weasley was going by the name Ginny Malfoy. She dressed a lot better than she had at Hogwarts and she certainly didn't remember Katie or anything about the place. She still had the same temper and the same flair toward the dramatic. She enjoyed showing Katie around the Manor, and Katie could almost feel the pull of the Manor's magic across her skin. "It likes you," Ginny told Katie when she remarked on it. "It thinks you're good for me. And it likes company, anyway. It hasn't had enough people inside of it for so long..."

Katie immediately thought dirty things. She chalked it up to being a professional Quidditch player and knowing Marcus Flint. And fucking him, too.

Katie was a bit unsettled to have Ginny refer to Marcus as her husband, even if he had warned her that taking his ring would mean forever. Perhaps this was how it was going to be within the Death Eater circles, but she still would have rather had a ceremony with all her friends and family. That was the way a marriage was supposed to be done.

"So were they supposed to kill you?" Katie nodded as she sipped her tea. "Oh. Then you're pregnant, too?" Ginny asked Katie over tea. Katie managed to keep herself from spurting tea all over the antique silver tray, but only just.

"Um, no. Not likely. I've been taking potions for years."

"Pity," Ginny murmured. "I'd've liked our children to be friends, too."

Katie smiled even as her stomach did little flip flops at the thought of dark haired children running about. "Well, I won't be taking it here, will I?"

"I don't have any," Ginny told her, smiling. "Sorry." She turned her head as a snowy owl flew into the parlor, a letter attached to its leg. She gave it part of a scone as payment and watched it fly off. She frowned at the letter but didn't open it.

"What's that?"

Ginny looked up at Katie. "You know, I really appreciate that you're not trying to tell me how I should be. That I'm not what you expected me to be, or that I shouldn't be acting the way I do."

"Well, I knew you from Quidditch and House parties. I didn't know you very well, not the way close friends do." Yet Katie couldn't help but feel as if that was a little lie as well, because her best friend Leanne still didn't know about Marcus Flint.

Ginny handed over the letter. "My family tries to send me letters about how I should be. They seem to have forgotten that I can't remember it, not one sodding thing."

Katie grasped the letter but didn't open it. She clasped Ginny's hand in hers. "We'll figure out who you are together, then. But I can tell you what I do know."

"What's that?"

"You were fantastic on a broom, playing Chaser or Seeker. If we don't go fast, d'you think you'd like to take a spin on the grounds?"

Ginny smiled. "I think I'd like that. I'd been locked up inside the house for months."

Letter forgotten, they headed off to the grounds.

***

Marcus couldn't find Katie, and he had half a mind to tear the Manor apart brick by brick until he found her. Luckily for the Manor, he found her giggling with Ginny in the kitchens. The elves were scandalized, ironing their hands or banging their heads into the wall. Katie and Ginny had their heads bent over an old cookbook, and it looked like they were trying to make a pie. Flour was everywhere, and random ingredients were scattered across the table.

"Bloody hell, Katie, I looked everywhere for you!" he growled before he was even aware of what he was saying.

She looked up with a grin. "Malfoy's not with you, is he? This is a surprise for his birthday. Ginny said he doesn't like cake, so we're trying a pie."

"What the hell for?" he asked, feeling utterly gobsmacked.

"Well, we can't exactly go out and find him a present," Ginny told him tartly. "I think we can at least put one pie together."

"Want to help?" Katie asked, that innocent smile on her face. It was the one he carried with him into Death Eater revels to remind him why he was putting up with it all.

With a sigh, he rolled up his shirtsleeves. "What do you need help with?"

He bore up well with the two giggling women, and had to admit that it hadn't been completely horrible to bake with them. He let Ginny go off on her own devices, and Katie happily was telling him about flying in the back grounds since she'd last seen him. "So the past week, we've gone out every day. It's almost the size of a pitch, can you believe it? Ginny won't go high, because of being pregnant, but I can still practice my barrel rolls and my..."

Marcus had held out the locket he had given her. Katie brought her hand to her mouth, speechless. "Marcus. How did you...?"

"I pretended to give that bloody bastard Nott a hand searching the damn place. Sorry, nothing's going to be salvageable in there. He's upset that he's nothing to show for anything. So he was an utter fuckwit and destroyed nearly everything. But I saved a few things."

Katie kissed him on the mouth and let him put the necklace on her. "You know... I have a suite. A really nice big one. With a bed. That's far enough away from Ginny's room..."

Marcus didn't need to be told twice. The moment they were inside the suite, the door was spelled shut and he seized her mouth in a kiss. He walked her backward until she hit the bed with the backs of her knees and fell over. He shoved her clothes out of the way and ripped off her knickers then plunged right into her. "Fuck," he groaned, face pressed against her neck. He had one arm curled around her and his other hand was fisted in her hair. Katie had her arms and legs wrapped around him, and she made those delicious mewling sounds of pleasure. "Merlin, Katie, it's fucking hell without you."

It was as close to a declaration as he'd ever gotten. For Marcus, it was tantamount to admitting he was in love. Katie smiled and pulled him closer. "I love you, too."

He groaned as he came inside her and didn't answer. He liked knowing he didn't have to.

"So what happened?"

"You didn't come," he said instead of answering. She shrugged and he frowned. "Oh, no, this has to be fair."

"A Slytherin doing fair? The world is coming to an end, all right."

"Fucking hell, Katie," he ground out between clenched teeth. He realized she was trying to cheer him up, but he didn't want to shake the feeling of dread just yet. "Don't joke," he said, voice soft. "Not now."

"Then tell me why," Katie murmured, running her fingers through his hair. It was getting too long, now. Further proof he was distracted by something.

"Things aren't shaking out right. I don't know if Malfoy's plan is going to happen soon enough or even work."

"Ask him, then," she told him, exasperated. "It'll stop eating at you if you do."

"I did."

"And?"

"I'm too thick for him to tell me. Everyone else'll just pick it up out of my head. Bad enough I had to face down the bloody Dark Lord and pretend I didn't fucking know where you were. And he rifled through my sodding head, and I had to put all my fantasies up front, like I'd never touched you, like we'd never spoken, just so he wouldn't guess I was lying." He shuddered in her arms. "Fuck if I didn't want to end up like Malfoy's father."

Katie hadn't known that Lucius Malfoy was dead. Ginny hadn't said anything and she certainly hadn't wanted to talk to Draco Malfoy. "I'm sorry," Katie murmured, stroking his back gently. "But you're here now. With me. It worked, didn't it?"

His laugh was bitter. "I'm commanded to find you and fuck you into submission to give me babies. To make the next generation of Death Eaters." His grip on her was almost painfully tight. "I have until the end of the fucking year, or they'll consider you barren and put you back on the bloody list."

"It's a little sooner than I'd like it," Katie said, hoping she didn't sound as shaken as she felt. "I'd thought a few years on the teams first..."

He covered her mouth with his, hands tangled in her hair. This was a possessive kiss, one born of desperation and longing and hopelessness. "I can't outwit a Dark Lord, Katie," he murmured. "If Malfoy can't do it, I certainly can't."

"He's working with the Order," Katie told him softly. "Ginny told me. She doesn't remember them as family, and that's why she asked to come back here. She's safe here, she knows the Manor and it likes her. But the Order's going to do something."

She ran her hands along his back when he shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe in them."

The locket around her neck was cool and heavy against her skin. He'd had hope once. He'd been rough and thoughtless in some ways, and so terribly sweet in others.

Katie cradled his face in her hands. "I will for both of us, then."

***

Draco strode through the front hall, face pinched and tight. Ginny had been reading a book but tossed it aside as soon as she felt him enter the room. "What is it?" she asked, brows furrowed in thought. Once she had been tucked back into Malfoy Manor, he had shut her out of his thoughts. He said it was so he could focus better, but it stung. She wanted to help, had pushed him in the right direction before. Couldn't he trust her now?

He gave her an absent kiss. "I have some things to plan, Gin," he murmured. "Don't wait up."

Frowning, Ginny headed to the back gardens where Katie was flying high above the Manor grounds. "Katie!"

She dove down toward Ginny and pulled up short, a frown on her face. "Is something happening?" she asked, concerned.

Ginny glowered darkly at Katie. "He's plotting something without me like I'm a delicate idiot. I don't like it."

"Want me to work on him through Marcus?"

"I didn't see Marcus," Ginny told her, concerned. "Whatever this is, Marcus isn't involved."

_I'm not clever enough for his plan..._

Katie hopped off of her broom with a sigh. "Well, then, we're going to have to get you a wand."

"What? What are you going to do?"

"Teach you magic again. And then if we have to, we'll follow the bastards and help them whether we like it or not. There's plenty of stuff in the library here to teach you advanced defense and attack spells. I'm pants at them, but I'm sure if we have a good enough reason, it'll work."

"That's the best thing I've heard all day," Ginny told her, relieved. She was so glad that Katie was around in the Manor. Otherwise she would have felt completely isolated and helpless.

"Fantastic. Let's get started."

***

It was sneaky, but Katie had been good friends with the Weasley twins and understood that a certain level of sneaky was absolutely required for good pranks to go off well. And in this case, she knew that the sneaky was a matter of life or death.

While going over the basic things Harry had taught them in the DA, Katie had combed through Lucius Malfoy's entire library of Dark Arts. There were quite a few spells that she had no intention of ever learning, and some nasty hexes that made her hair rise on end just reading about. But there were also very good spells in the collection as well. There were various spells for tracking, locating, eavesdropping and remaining hidden. There were a few attack and defense spells that even Harry hadn't known about, and she pored over those greedily. She and Ginny practiced every day while the two Death Eaters were out of the house, practicing on weeds in the back lawn or straw figures the house elves created for them.

Ginny might not have remembered Hogwarts or her past lessons at all, but she definitely still had her magic and could still use it effectively.

The next time Marcus arrived at Malfoy Manor, he looked haggard and drawn. "Marcus?" Katie had whispered, running her hands over his face in concern. He brushed her hands away but didn't protest when she brought him upstairs to her bed. She undressed him and ran her hands along the planes of his body. He stirred, eyes focusing for a moment, but he groaned as she took him into her mouth and began to suck gently. Head lolling on her pillow, Marcus sighed as Katie moved to kiss his stomach when she needed to give her jaw a break. His cock was hard against her palm, her thumb on top of the head. She thumbed the building moisture, swirling it around the tip. He reached out for where she was kneeling beside him on the bed and worked his hand into her clothing. He slid his fingers against her skin until he found the juncture of her thighs. He traced the damp curls, noting her sharp intake of breath with satisfaction. He slid a finger inside her, teasing her, and her hand tightened around his cock.

"Bleeding hell, Katie," he groaned as she moved to take his cock into her mouth again. Heat curled inside her at the sound of his voice, and she moaned. The vibration rippled along his cock, and it twitched inside her mouth. Her wetness was slick on his fingers as they worked her from the inside out, the thumb brushing against her clit. She made a soft keening noise, muffled, and Marcus tried not to chuckle at the way she tilted her hips so he could have even better access. She certainly wasn't shy about what she liked once she figured it out, and that was definitely one thing he liked about her.

She sucked in a breath as he continued to stroke her sensitive clit, a finger deep inside of her. She ran her tongue along the length of his cock, then swirled it around the tip. Katie bobbed her head so that his cock ran along her tongue or slid across the inside of her cheek. He groaned, arching into her mouth, his other hand coming to rest on the back of her head. He didn't push, but the insistence was there. _Finish it,_ his touch told her. _Make me come._

Marcus kept working his finger inside her, thumb at her clit. He stroked her in small circles, then back and forth. Katie made muffled mewling noises, his cock still firmly in her mouth, her hips bucking against his hand. He could feel her tighten around his finger, her hands clutching desperately at his hips for balance. "Come," he groaned, pushing his cock further into her mouth, his hand at the back of her head. He moved at a more punishing pace, fingers fast and slick with her juices. She made soft, muffled mewling noises, twisting above him. "Come for me."

She did, sucking hard on him as she did so. He grunted, hips bucking up into her mouth, and then he came as well. Katie swallowed it all down, then pulled back and collapsed across his stomach. Marcus's hand was still between her legs, and her clit was so painfully sensitive that even the slightest touch made her writhe on top of him.

Katie rolled to her side and curled around Marcus' body. "Feeling better?" she asked sleepily.

"Tension gone? Yes. Worry for everyone's bloody lives, no."

Katie surreptitiously cast tracking charms on his clothes when he wasn't looking. "You're going to another revel tonight, then?"

"Mum..." His voice cracked. "They're killing Mum tonight." His laughter was bitter and pained, and he couldn't meet Katie's eyes after her gasp of horror. "I'd had fantasies of you in Hogwarts, you know. I'd bring you home and we'd shag on my bed. Or the floor of my room. I'd take you up against the wall and make you keep quiet because my parents' room was right next door. We'd shag on the desk, fucking in the backyard, something. And Mum would've loved you, of course, and think you're a sodding good luck charm of a girl." He threw an arm over his face so he wouldn't have to look at her or deal with any pity she might have. "Merlin's balls, I'm a bleeding girl. Fucking hell, Katie. Everything's bloody fucked. The world has gone to shite and nobody can do a damn thing about it."

"What about Malfoy's plan?"

"He said maybe tonight, but it depended. He left the games early this evening." Marcus still couldn't look at her, though his other hand was tight in hers. "I didn't even try to argue with the bastard. He has his own wife and child to think of."

Wife. She'd forgotten. The way things were now, Katie was Marcus's wife even without a ceremony to mark the occasion.

But Malfoy hadn't been to the manor. That meant he was meeting with the Order to try to get things done tonight, before Marcus's mother was killed. He was going to do it as a favor to Flint, who'd been supportive of him and subtly pointing fingers elsewhere. Marcus didn't think he was clever enough, but Katie knew he was capable of many things when pushed enough.

When this was over, she owed Malfoy a good right hook to the jaw for the needless suffering he'd put Marcus through.

Katie draped herself over Marcus and simply held him for a while. When he needed to Apparate to the latest revel, she let him go with a fierce kiss of support. "Come home to me," she told him solemnly, just as she had every other time he left.

This time, she dressed in black and ran to get Ginny. The redhead dressed in black as well and took her borrowed wand. They used the tracking spells Katie had laid on Marcus's clothes and Apparated a few feet away from the designated meeting spot. Katie almost wished they had more time to prepare, to try to contact the Order. She could only hope that she was correct in her guess that Malfoy had gone for them. If he hadn't, they were all well and truly fucked.

She saw a terrified middle aged woman being dragged toward an altar in a clearing in front of a massive stone fortress. She could pick out Marcus's form, tension etched in every line of his body. She couldn't see Malfoy, and started cursing his ancestors in the back of her mind. Of all the times to become a selfish coward...

"There he is," Ginny hissed, nodding toward the fortress, her fingers digging into Katie's arm.

Draco Malfoy was in long black robes edged in red, the color of bright blood. He stood behind Voldemort holding a ceremonial dagger that Ginny had recognized in their study of Lucius' books. It was an ancient blade called the Soul Stealer, and its mate the Soul Receiver was the rune-etched chalice being carried in Wormtail's hands. Draco was pale, face drawn and tight as he followed Voldemort. He met no one's eyes and seemed to be concentrating at the task at hand. He didn't spare any glances at Marcus, waiting in the inner circle beside his terrified mother, who was held by three masked and hooded Death Eaters, a knife to her throat to keep her still.

As the macabre procession fell into place, Draco nodded at the hooded Death Eater with the knife. The knife was withdrawn and the Death Eater backed away, disappearing into the shadows away from the inner circle.

"This life you shed is a gift to me, your Lord and Master," Voldemort said, voice sibilant and soft. The clearing was so still that his voice carried to where Katie and Ginny were hidden.

Marcus's mother spat at the ground in front of Voldemort, her final act of defiance. "Good on you," Katie muttered, wand ready in her hand. Ginny had hers out as well.

Voldemort raised his hand, gesturing for her to be brought to the altar and sacrificed.

And that was when all hell broke loose.

Half of the hooded Death Eaters pulled their hoods and masks off, revealing Order members with their wands at the ready. An outer ring of people materialized, Order members as well, Harry at the lead. Spells were thrown, rapid fire, a raging blaze of magic and fury.

Katie and Ginny catapulted themselves forward as Marcus dragged his mother to the ground to help her avoid getting shot by spells. Katie blasted a Death Eater in the face with a close-range Stunning spell, and Ginny used a nasty cutting hex on another. She waded forward, blasting her way to Marcus's side. Ginny was heading for Draco, who had the ceremonial knife in his hands still. She screamed when he raised it, then plunged it down into Voldemort's back.

Voldemort struck Draco in the face, sending him flying. The knife was still stuck in his back, and it slowly began to glow as it absorbed the stolen years he had taken from his followers. Harry surged forward, shouting curses at the Death Eaters in his way. He was single minded in his advance, intending to get to Voldemort and finish things for good.

Katie saw Nott raise his wand to point it at Harry. "Avada Kedavra!" he shouted.

Katie screamed when she saw Marcus stand in front of the jet of green light, letting Harry pass him to curse Voldemort. Marcus fell, glassy dead eyes wide open, an expression of calm acceptance on his face.

Nott turned, eyes wide with horror. His gaze fell on her agonized face, and then he began to smile. "Fucking Katie Bell," he said, lips curling into a sneer. He raised his wand, confident that he would fell her instantly.

"It's fucking Katie _Flint,_ asshole," she snarled, teeth bared and lips curled back in anger. She whipped her wand to face him. "Reducto!"

He had an instant to register the spell she threw at him before he exploded.

Katie whirled around, hearing Ginny scream in anger somewhere off to her left. Ginny was holding her own against Fenrir Greyback, who was snarling at her and trying to gouge at her arms with his clawed fingers. She headed forward, where Marcus lay staring up at the sky in his mother's wailing arms, when the ground seemed to shake beneath her feet. She turned her head and saw Harry standing in the epicenter of a magical blast wave, spattered in viscous blackened blood. Voldemort was standing there, the knife in his back like a glowing star, a large hole in the center of his abdomen.

Harry calmly stepped forward, pushing aside the folds of his cloak. He had the sword of Gryffindor at his side, and he swung it around in a clean arc. Voldemort's head was separated from his body, and it collapsed to the ground as a second quake rocked the clearing.

Katie was knocked to her feet, the breath whooshing out of her body. She crawled across the floor toward Marcus, not feeling the rocks cutting into her arms. She couldn't feel anything in her shock, couldn't believe he wasn't sneering at her for being so silly. Of course he wasn't dead. Of course he didn't just sacrifice himself for the fucking Boy Who Lived. Of course he was coming back to her, ready to fuck her into the mattress and make fun of her silly Gryffindor ideals. Of course he was. Of course.

Only, he was staring at the sky without blinking, lips blue. His mother was sobbing, rocking and holding him in her grasp, wailing at the midnight stars.

Katie grasped his hand, not realizing she was crying. "Marcus," she rasped, watching his image blur in front of her. "You fucking wake up! You promised you'd come home to me, you lying bastard! You wake up _right now!"_

She could feel Marcus's mother grabbing her, letting her hold onto Marcus as she wailed, but it didn't register. He wasn't waking up. He wasn't moving. Why wasn't he moving? He always moved when she yelled at him, if only to tell her to shut the fuck up or shove over in bed or damn it, Bell, keep it down, someone might hear!

Draco was holding the ceremonial blade, shining like a fallen star in his hands. Ginny was at his side, snarling and hexing anyone that came within five feet of them. They slowly backed toward Harry, who had moved toward the other Order members. Both sides had suffered casualties, both sides had wounded and mauled members. Still, the Death Eaters outnumbered the Order members, and they were willing to press their advantage.

Ginny took the blade from Draco and knelt beside the weeping Katie. "Katie. Let him go."

Weeping, Katie could only stare at Ginny in disbelief. "He won't wake up. Ginny, he won't wake up. He needs to wake up and fucking yell at me. He needs to yell at me."

"I know," she told her gently, a hand on Katie's arm. "But I need you to let go. I know how this works. I can fix it."

Katie nodded and scooted over, letting Ginny kneel beside Marcus. "Whatever you're going to do, Gin, do it fast," Draco hissed. "They're getting restless. I think they're going to fight us to the death. They've nothing to live for now. They won't go to Azkaban."

"Kill them all," Katie heard herself say, voice bitter and broken. It would have horrified her old self, the idealistic self she'd been in Hogwarts. She didn't recognize herself any longer.

"Give us the knife!" Bellatrix called out, stepping forward. Her smile was cruel and crazed, her eyes shining in the half light. "We'll even let you live for us to hunt down."

"Aunt Bella," Draco drawled lazily, wand arm high. "We both know you're lying."

"Kill them!" she screeched. And the battle began again.

Katie focused on Ginny, who was chanting something under her breath, knife in her hands raised over Marcus's torso. Katie slid her fingers through his hand, but it was cold and clammy, lying still in death. She couldn't move, couldn't leave his side. There were Death Eaters that needed killing, but she couldn't bring herself to move.

Ginny plunged the knife into Marcus's chest, and his eyes instantly shot further open as he sucked in a painful breath. Color flooded into his cheeks and he scrabbled at Katie's hands and shrieked an unholy note of pain. The bright light had faded, and Ginny pulled the knife away. Dark blood poured out of the wound, and both Katie and Mrs. Flint cried out in dismay. Katie tried to push it back into the gaping hole, sobbing, and couldn't understand what Ginny had done. She hadn't read that book. She hadn't been able to read it; the pages had appeared blank to her eyes. Ginny had said it was spelled for Malfoys only.

"Just watch," Ginny was telling her confidently. The knife wasn't glowing any longer, it looked brittle. Ginny broke it in two over Marcus's chest, and it crumbled to dust. As it did so, the gaping hole in his chest closed over, blood running backward to seal the wound.

Katie collapsed, hands over her mouth in disbelief. "Marcus?"

"Fucking hell," he coughed, the air around him tasting faintly of blood. "Was I dead?"

Throwing herself at him, Katie could only laugh and chant his name. His mother sobbed in relief, and they were all oblivious to the curses flying around them.

It didn't matter anymore, anyway. With Voldemort dead, the war was officially over. Now it was time to clean up the mess he left behind.

***  
***


	6. Epilogue - The Path Forward

A handful of the Death Eaters present at the fateful revel survived and ran to ground. They were scattered in the fields around England, perhaps moving overseas to hide until they could garner new followers in Voldemort's name. Order members and Aurors moved into the vacancies they left behind in the Ministry, and the statutes and mandates passed that had terrorized the people were swept away. It was as if the slate was wiped clean in the Ministry, even if it wasn't quite erased for the populace at large.

For Katie, having Marcus killed and resurrected within the space of twenty minutes had been more than enough to bear. He had a puckered scar where he had been stabbed with the knife, but she could ignore that, just as she could ignore the gray skin where the Dark Mark used to be. It had shriveled and faded with Voldemort's death, though the gray remnant would never come out. She thought perhaps it was seared into Marcus's very bones, never to be erased.

Lucerne Flint had never met Katie before that final battle, but had welcomed her into their home in the south of England. A few expansion charms made their small home large enough to accommodate her, and Katie began making plans to Floo or portkey her way from the Flint home to Puddlemere's practice pitch. She was still a second string chaser, and at any time she could be yanked off of the reserve team as a replacement player.

While Katie worried that her parents might disapprove of her wartime marriage, but with Marcus being hailed as one of the undercover Death Eaters, they were more than willing to accept him into the family. "Fucking shite," he had declared in disgust, throwing the _Prophet_ onto the table the morning the article had come out with the names. "They killed Dad and threatened Mum, nothing more to it than that. I didn't join up to be a bloody turncoat."

Katie merely patted his hand and passed him another slice of toast. Really, it didn't matter anymore. History was always written by the victors.

The Bells decided to host a lavish wedding ceremony, as the Flints hadn't been allowed to have one before. Katie and her sisters began to plan, and Marcus wondered what the hell he had gotten himself into. A wedding. With a reception. That would have Gryffindors. Lots and lots of annoying, self righteous Gryffindors.

Fuck. If Katie hadn't promised another wedding night to remember, he'd have canceled the whole thing and locked her in their bedroom for a week.

Still, seeing her at the end of the aisle more than made up for the pain of planning and staying in separate homes for the days leading up to the wedding – "It's bad luck to see me before the wedding!" Katie had screeched. "We've had enough bad luck!" – and he had to admit there was something to this wedding thing. She was swathed in white silk and lace, a delicate veil over her face. It did nothing to hide the beaming smile she was smiling, or the way she was nearly bouncing on her toes as her father guided her down the aisle.

Marcus looked into her eyes, and it was like that first day he'd really looked at her on the Hogwarts pitch all those years ago. When they kissed, he had that same electric feeling across his lips. That first kiss had been a promise, this one was the fulfillment.

Marcus and Katie were presented to the crowded pavilion as the new Mr. and Mrs. Flint, amidst cheers. "You think they're cheering because they actually give a shit about me?" he grumbled between grit teeth as they walked down the aisle from the grand parlor and toward the next hall at Bell Manor.

"Shut it, Flint," Katie hissed back while smiling. "We're having the sodding reception and we're having a bloody good time, understand me?"

He snickered. "Your parents know about that mouth you've still got?"

"Can't handle it, Flint? No wonder you got off the pitch," she snarked back playfully.

"That was low, Bell," he replied. He looked around both ways. "Detour?"

She lofted an eyebrow. "The reception is that way."

"And we have ten minutes."

Katie snickered. "Since when have you only used ten minutes?"

"Consider it incentive to be nice."

"Bloody Slytherin of you."

"That's not a no."

She couldn't help but grin, a blush to her cheeks. "That's not a no," she confirmed.

No one remarked on their late arrival to the reception or the flush on the bride's face. Her hair was undone and falling about her shoulders, her hazel eyes twinkling mischievously. Even the groom seemed less tense, though most guests chalked it up to nerves for the ceremony itself. He allowed himself to be greeted by Katie's Gryffindor friends and all of the Puddlemere teams, as well as her extended family. Coming from a small and isolative family, it was overwhelming for Marcus. Of the Flints, there was just himself and his mother.

And Katie.

She laughed openly as she danced with the Weasley twins, Oliver Wood or Lee Jordan. She had a great time with Spinnet, Johnson and Leanne. She even danced with the very, very pregnant Ginny Malfoy until Draco claimed his wife back. Katie then grabbed Draco and swung him out onto the dance floor for a spin.

Marcus sat down next to Ginny with a content smile on his face. His mother and Katie's got on famously, which had been a relief. Her father didn't even seem to condemn him for his choices, once he was able to articulate them. He seemed to understand that difficult choices called for sacrifices of some kind, and had given Marcus his blessing. "I've three daughters," Katie's father said solemnly at his reception speech. "The tighter you hold on, the more they run. But they've all been such wonderful girls, and ultimately, they've proven me right. I can trust them to choose the best path for themselves, even if it doesn't look like it to me."

"It's a lovely party," Ginny told him sincerely, a wide smile on her face. "I'm just glad that we're not having one."

"I'd've thought that Weasley clan would want one."

"Yes, but it's still so new to me. They're trying to cope with the fact that I can't remember them at all. The twins have been great. And Bill and Charlie over there," she said, pointing to two older russet-haired men standing beside their wives and talking with Oliver Wood. "Ron has been a pill, but the twins assure me he's always been that way."

Marcus laughed along with her. "And your parents?"

"Sad," Ginny admitted. She gave him a bittersweet smile. "We're getting to know each other again, though. In some ways I think it's almost cruel to them. I remember nothing but I remind them of who I used to be. It's strange. But we're getting on well, and I promised they can do all this as an anniversary party once we're more comfortable with each other."

"I can see why Malfoy's mad about you," Marcus murmured.

"Yeah? Why?"

"You're too good for him. He knows it, too. You're going to keep him honest in this new regime. You're going to call him on all his shite."

"Katie'll call you on yours."

"I run a shop," Marcus pointed out. "I'm not going into sodding politics."

Ginny snorted and shook his head. "Watch out. You're considered one of the heroes of the day. They just might call on you to do something in government."

"Not fucking clever enough for that," Marcus declared loftily. "Repeated seventh year, I did."

Ginny leaned a little closer. "I'll tell you a secret, Flint. Most of the blokes in office are stupid and didn't even finish seventh year. You're smarter than they are."

He laughed out loud. "See, now, this is why I approve of you."

"I'm so glad you do," Ginny laughed, poking him in the ribs. "Ooh. I think baby Malfoy is glad you like his mommy, too."

"Still no name?" Marcus asked, eyebrow raised.

"I'm not naming him after anyone on the Malfoy or Black family trees. He's not naming him after anyone on the Weasley family tree. And we haven't yet settled on a compromise name."

"My father's name was Nicholas," Marcus said softly.

"Wouldn't you want to name your son that?" Ginny asked, surprised.

Marcus blinked. "Maybe. I haven't talked it over with Katie." He thought for a moment. "It was Nicholas Benjamin. Would Benjamin work?"

Ginny mulled it over. "We'll talk about that one. Thanks."

He nodded and looked back out onto the dance floor, where Katie was now dancing with her sister's three year old son. Something in him twisted at the sight. If the child had a black mop of hair, it might've looked something like how he'd imagine his own children. If he did such a thing, of course.

Ginny followed the direction of his gaze and smiled. "You're not as thick as you think you are."

"What?"

"You're clever in ways that count, Flint. You've managed to keep her safe, didn't you? And you've kept her, mean spirited bastard that you are."

They smiled at each other. "Yeah, I suppose so."

"Go dance with her," Ginny urged, grinning at him. "I'll be fine. Look, Draco's coming back with food for me."

Marcus went off to dance with Katie for a slow song, and Ginny beamed up at Draco. "Hullo, love. Having a good time?"

"Sure, why not?" Draco replied sarcastically, indicating his surroundings with a grand sweeping gesture. "Surrounded by Gryffinors and your family glaring at me? Fabulous party. We should do this again sometime soon."

Ginny snorted and linked her hand through his. "They're getting used to it."

"We'll be fine," he told her, smiling fondly at her. "You're worth the hassle."

"Thanks." She smiled at Katie and Marcus, slow dancing together. It was less a dance than swaying while trying to wear each other in public. "They're good together."

"Surprisingly so," Draco replied, popping a sweet into his mouth.

"Like us," Ginny said, snatching one from his plate and eating it.

He laughed and slung an arm around her shoulder. "I suppose. Though their families get along well enough together."

She clasped his hand in hers. He was an orphan now, and blamed himself for his parents' deaths. "When they come around, my family will be yours, that's all."

Draco kissed her rather than answer; it was unlikely for Ron or Harry to ever really accept him as a permanent fixture in Ginny's life. They hoped her memory would spontaneously return one day and she would be repulsed by him. While the spell damage appeared to be permanent, at least it had left other areas of her memory relatively intact.

She sighed happily and leaned into his embrace. After a moment was an uncomfortable cough to the side of them. They separated, and Ginny saw Ron standing there, looking as though he'd rather be anywhere else in the world. She did notice the twins' anxious looks, and figured they put him up to it.

"Care to dance?" he asked, looking awkward.

"I'd love to," Ginny lied, pushing herself up to her feet. Draco looked on as they went to the dance floor and began to dance to a fast number. Katie was with some of her teammates, and even Marcus didn't look as pained to be in their company. "It's a lovely wedding. Katie and Marcus are so happy."

"Are you?" Ron asked seriously, brows furrowed together.

It was nice not to be yelled at for a change. "Yes, I am."

"Um... He's good to you?" He looked as though he nearly swallowed his tongue to ask that without insinuating anything.

Ginny's smile was soft and loving. "Yes, he is. He wasn't the one to cast those spells on me, Ron. I'm sorry I don't remember what you want me to. I'm sorry I'm not your sister anymore."

"You're still my sister," he replied firmly. "I just... I just need to get used to the new you. It'll take a while. It's that you were dead, then not, then different... It's a lot to take in at once."

She blinked, contemplating it from his point of view. "I guess it is. I didn't think of it like that."

"I didn't mean to yell so much," he winced slightly. "But really... he's a git. Trust me on that one," he assured her. "He's been that way all through school."

"I'm sure he was," Ginny replied with a shrug. "He's selfish at times, I know. Everyone is. Aren't you, by wanting everything to be what you want it to be?"

"I suppose," he admitted reluctantly.

"But don't forget. Katie and I wound up going through the entire Dark Arts library in Malfoy Manor. If Draco is ever stupid enough to hurt me, he won't live to regret it."

Ron stared at her for a long moment, startled, then began to laugh. "Oi, Gin, that's just the thing you used to say all the time." He smiled fondly at her. "You're still you. New, but still you. I think that's what I was most afraid of. That somehow he's changed you and you were lost."

"Not lost. It's like sleepwalking, I think. You're headed somewhere that makes sense at the time but doesn't when you wake up."

"I suppose." He gave her a slow spin on the dance floor then laughed. "I don't have to be friends with the git, do I?"

Ginny laughed. "It'd be nice, but not necessary. As long as you don't kill each other over the dinner table, I think we can manage."

"I'll try," he answered sheepishly. "But I've just as bad a temper. Ask anyone."

She smiled at him and let him lead her off the floor when the song ended. "It'll be okay, Ron. I'm fine. I'm a big girl now."

He eyed her bulging stomach. "Yeah, I suppose you are."

She swatted his arm playfully. "Go dance with someone, get married and be happy. Go on, we're good here. I'm in a safe place."

She sat next to Draco again and snuggled up close to him. He slung his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "Better?"

"Much, thanks." She smiled up at him with a sunny expression. "What about Benjamin?"

"Hm... Not too bad. Aurelius?"

"I already said no."

"Desiderius."

"Stop with the Latin names, Draco. They sound utterly horrid."

He laughed and ran his fingers along her arm. "You sure about that?"

"That's it. I'm going to pick something completely horrible and random. Like shoe."

Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust. "You are _not_ naming our son shoe."

"So take Benjamin and shut it."

He laughed and nodded. "It's a nice name."

"Of course it is," Ginny agreed. "That's why I picked it."

"Did we mention that one months ago?"

"I picked it then, too," Ginny told him.

"Oi!" Katie called out from the dance floor. "You two love birds get over here!"

Draco helped Ginny up to her feet and they walked over to Katie and Marcus. Marcus signaled for one of the wait staff to bring over glasses of juice for them. "To new beginnings," Katie said, raising her glass and leaning against Marcus.

"To the path forward," Marcus added. "May it be smoother than the path we took to get here."

Katie elbowed him gently. "See? That was clever."

"Shut it, Bell. He was the brains behind that operation."

"Somehow, I think their road is going to be just as rocky as it was to start," Draco told Ginny in a stage whisper. Katie gave him a playful push on the arm. "Marcus, your wife is abusive."

"That's the bloody truth, let me tell you," Marcus replied, shaking his head. Katie gave him a shove, and they both began laughing.

Ginny looked around the hall. Memory or not, these people were her friends and family. It felt comfortable, like home. She slid her arm through Draco's and leaned against his arm. It might not have been an easy path, but it had turned out to be the right one. And it was even better than she had dreamed it might be.

The End.


End file.
